And I RealizedThere was one time at lunch, while I was dating Quinn. He moved his hand, and I moved mine, and then he didn't go to take it. My hand was just left there in the air, awkwardly suspended, and I just sat there and stared at it. My mouth was open, because I felt like something needed to be said, but I had nothing, and he looked at me and asked simply, "What?"
My only response was to lick the corner of my mouth because it was dry and put my hand first on the table, then back in my lap where no one could see it, and then I looked away. In that moment, it was like nothing existed, but everything was so real, and there were so many things that I suddenly knew in the burning embarrassment of that one moment.
Now, don't get me wrong, worse things have happened, and a lot of better things too, but for some reason, that's what I always come back to. I go re-run it and re-run it, frame by frame, and I figure out the same things over and over, but I never seem to be able to hold onto it. The only t
Bergiet Vs. the WorldLuca adjusted the strap connected to the messenger bag slung across his chest. It was cutting into his shoulder and pressing down uncomfortably on his chest, and he made a face in his displeasure as he waited for the light to turn green. The bag's contents were heavy, something that he hadn't expected when he had first seen the paper backed comics that Bergiet had shoved at him. Of course, Luca also hadn't expected her to stuff the bag until it bulged, the hard corners of the spines poking him in the leg, and the buckles BARELY making it to one another. WHY she didn't just box them up and drive them over, he didn't really know. She had said something about the planet dying and saving the walruses, or whatever, but as far as he knew, buying twenty million pounds of paper backed books wasn't really helping out that much either, but that was just Bergiet. Because of this, Luca had been back and forth between her apartment and his nearly three times now, and he was momentarily grateful tha
In the AtticFoggy memories piling up
Collecting dust in the recesses.
Up the stairs, past the spare bedroom
Climb the last rickety ladder
The attic is the only place to keep them.
Put them in a box
Lock them away
And throw out the old tarnished skelleton key.
This Timeless PlaceJealous admiration and wet fingers
Ravenous and intent
The world is in this room,
All smashed and split open
Occupied by something or other
The future was sunset;
The past something to leave behind
You couldn't run if you didn't know where to go
Away from this timeless place
Divine - ForwardParfait picked up her bags for the final time. She let out a long sigh. This was it.
"Are you ready yet? You've unpacked and packed that thing FOUR times already!" came Key's voice.
"Almost. Just nervous."
" Well quit worrying about it - We're going to be working with professionals I think." He looked at his phone. "In any case, we're almost late. Get a move on," he said before exiting the room. He had packed WEEKS ago, when the letter first came. Parfait zipped up her suitcase and picked up her various other small bags and went to stand by the door. It seemed like this war was changing everything it had changed everything.
As they drove out to meat the rest of the newest recruited 'soldiers', they saw several groups of rebels on the sides of the streets. It seemed that if you stood still, you got sucked up somewhere, and if you stayed out of the way it was just like you just weren't. Like you didn't exist at all. Some were lucky enough to not have been drafted, but recentl
Deliver Me DearlyA woman, a child
Dulled to smoke circling, circling
Didn't know where the world ended,
And where she began
O Lord, she thought, deliver me dearly.
Middle of NowhereThe world around me was so silent out, it felt like my footsteps echoed so loudly that even God could hear them. Can you believe that? God? Hearing MY footsteps? I didn't really like the idea. I didn't like the thought of being so uncovered, so visible, and it frightened me.
Heart pounding, I looked up, scanning the desolate street suddenly wanting, craving the presence of another living being, brain ticking and blood flowing. It was probably the only paved road in this tiny little town out in the middle of nowhere, and, just to give you an idea of just HOW small it was, you should know that I could clearly see were it started along with where it ended. Just a couple of dusty buildings lined up along either side of the street, a hanging sign creaking a little in the rare breeze that wafted past, not paying me any attention. And it was to my grave disappointment that no one was there. The street was empty besides me and a piece of road kill that I was fairly certain was the stray dog I