Just look down. He will go away. He has to go away.
"Sally?"
Just keep looking down. He will go away. He has to go away. He always goes away.
He says hello. I say hello. And then we...uh...hello. And then he is gone. No kiss goodbye. No you look beautiful in the morning. No do you want to grab breakfast. No I will leave her. No I only love you.
"Sally?"
"Oh, hello," I say, looking up, but still feel down.
"Hello," he smiles in a way that makes me wish I didn't get out of bed this morning,...
I couldn't sleep with her next to me. I knew what she had done. It was despicable; it made my stomach churn. But there she was, next to me, sleeping soundly, like a baby without a care in the world. Her breathing came in short shallow gasps. Her snores got on my nerves and as I try to sleep all I can think of is what she's done. What I've done, now that I know. I'm part of it. A romantic evening, a shared bottle of Merlot, shared secrets; too much. A night of passion, a night of disgust. Now...
I felt blood running down my body, i had stab marks in my stomach, two of them, i was alone, on the dirt, with nobody around to help me. I looked up to see a bull standing over me, grunting, breathing heavily, i got up and walked away slowly. when i got up the bull saw the blood and ran away, i tighten my shirt around my stomach, run to the lake across from the sandy field and washed off the blood. My mum saw me from the balcony a few blocks down from the sandy field and she came...
The desert rose would always grow.
It knew nothing of circumstances beyond its control. Nothing of bodies drying in the sun, baked by heat on the hot sand. All that mattered was the sun and the wind and just enough moisture to survive.
The girl turned, picked the pink blossom, and tucked it into the soldier's kaki colored uniform. The color clashed happily with the washed out surroundings, almost as much as the smile with which he repaid her small kindness.
She walked angrily down the path. She heard a twig snap in the woods to her right. Turning her head, but still moving at a ferocious pace, she decided to disregard it. Perhaps that was the wrong decision but there was no other choice in her mind. Who, after all, has the authority to say what a wrong decision, if there is such a thing, is?
It was a cool night, the only light was glaring from the lampposts along the path. She pulled out a cigarette from the box in her pocket. Pulling her hair back and tying it...
It approached. Winter came quickly... I thought of ending it then, but I couldn't. I couldn't say goodbye right before Christmas, and then I needed a date for New Years Eve, and then I didn't want to spend Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, or even Memorial Day lonely. Then I guess he grew on me. I guess. Then came July 4th, September, Halloween, and then Thanksgiving. Then Christmas again. On Christmas he asked me to marry him and I felt that I owed it to him. It was our 3rd winter, 3rd Christmas, and I couldn't say goodbye again. Who...
blahblah fuck
Andy abhorrs aggressive people, but he adores alliteration. He likes sunlight, and soft things, and words that start with the same letter as his name. Andy doesn't like to be touched, but he likes to touch things. Soft things are the best, especially Maggie's dog with his shaggy fur and smiling face. Sometimes, Andy likes to sleep on him, and Maggie lets him. Andy has a good life most of the time, when people leave him alone or when he gets chips for his tea. He likes wearing no socks and feeling the grass between his toes, because it's soft,...
The colors bleed into brown, red to rust, green to yellow.
The maple leaves will change and fall with a certain grace-- November will begin.
It mourns the soft breeze of summer, the baked earth from the sun, but looks forward eagerly to the cool rain, and rest in dormancy.
I stand next to the gnarled wood of the tree, placing my hand on the jagged surface.
This time, I'll follow the seasons. I 'll rest and let the autumn bleed from me my growth and energy.
Winter will freeze me, it's icy fingers clutching my heart, winding around my...
"So you're saying you didn't see Willie Mason leaving the store Friday night?" PI Dot Post eyed the man sitting in her passenger seat.
"I see no man, no ma'am. Course you know dat."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I see someone leave that store, 'bout 11:45, I reckon, but weren't no Willie Mason. Nah, dis person got curly red hair an' wear army boots."
Dot glanced down at her own foot attire, her hand reaching uncertainly for her auburn curls.
"Aye, I see you, detective lady." He grinned maliciously. "I see you wit' de blood on your hands."
Well,...