“Pity,” she sighs and flicks the page. She’s writing again, but a troubling thought makes her fidget.
“What’s the matter now?” His concern mounts. She practically demonic when she gets out of sorts like this. He hopes to fend off whatever it is, worse case scenario: she starts down another warpath she won’t turn away from, she’s been down so many, and they take her further and further away from him. Why won’t she ignore things and focus on what needs to be done in the moment like a normal person? At this rate they’ll be living in two different cities by the end of the month.
“The people who get stuck in the quagmire of their lives because they aren’t brave enough to struggle and break free of the hold others have over them. Work, family, community, anything and anyone who is determental to their growth and happiness as a person,” She slams the composition book shut. “Damn, working on stories just brings this stuff up, why is one a hero and the other a stunted character? It’s like where is the drive to change what’s not working, you know?”
“And how do you know they’re not struggling?” He scoffs. However his discomfort grows when her frown deepens. “I just mean, they could be putting on a brave face.”
“Did you not hear me! I said they’re never seen struggling, not even a pinkie toe. They accept their lot, too afraid to change, too afraid to leave everything they’ve ever known! And they have no intention to! I won’t be seen making the same mistake as the sad characters I know in real life or in books or whatever.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to be seen as being human and failing would we?” He rolls his eyes at her.
“I never said I’m too perfect that I wouldn’t make any mistakes. I said I won’t make the same ones as these minor characters.” She got up to leave, gathering her things hastily, eyes angrily narrowing, “speaking of sad sack errors, you should leave mind reading to the pros, like mentalists. They’ve got a knack and you’ve got all the talent of a dried out potato.”
“Well, I’ll be a son of a spud, she’s extra pissy these days…” He thinks as the coffee shop’s door chimes tinkle, “…I just don’t want to follow.” His fingers drum on the table as his toe taps the floor,”…but I want to get up and follow…”
I’ve never been brave. I never had the time. While somewhere out in the world vague heroes were scaling mountains, putting out fires and taking away the knife from their throats, I was busy trying just to get buy.
John Doe
They told me to be brave. But did they know what it really was to fear?
As I look forth towards the next chapter of my life I can’t help but feel fearful for entering such an unknown territory, but it is this fear that also propels me forward resolutely. I know that I must embrace this unknown with optimism and bravery, for it is really the unknown and our infinite lack of comprehension of such a phenomena that keeps us from progressing.
Evan Israel
i was brave, sure you could say that I wasnt but Im really sure I was. One day I had to endure a lot of pain and suffering, being brave was the only thing that kept me alive, that kept me on my feet
Wil Gaurad
“He was so brave, riding out into battle like that,” she thought as she watched her love from the castle tower window. He rode out on his trusted steed, his silver armor glinting in the sunlight as his army rode behind him.
She knew that they’d win. She knew that good would prevail. The thing that she was worried about was that his life would be the price to bring them victory.
She wiped tears from her eyes and turned away from the window. And then she waited.
Waited to see if he would come back.
Waited for his touch.
Waited for his smile.
And she waited until her dying day.
“He was so brave, riding out into battle like that,” she thought as she watched her love from the castle tower window. He rode out on his trusted steed, his silver armor glinting in the sunlight as his army rode behind him.
She knew that they’d win. She knew that good would prevail. The thing that she was worried about was that his life would be the price to bring them victory.
“Pity,” she sighs and flicks the page. She’s writing again, but a troubling thought makes her fidget.
“What’s the matter now?” His concern mounts. She practically demonic when she gets out of sorts like this. He hopes to fend off whatever it is, worse case scenario: she starts down another warpath she won’t turn away from, she’s been down so many, and they take her further and further away from him. Why won’t she ignore things and focus on what needs to be done in the moment like a normal person? At this rate they’ll be living in two different cities by the end of the month.
“The people who get stuck in the quagmire of their lives because they aren’t brave enough to struggle and break free of the hold others have over them. Work, family, community, anything and anyone who is determental to their growth and happiness as a person,” She slams the composition book shut. “Damn, working on stories just brings this stuff up, why is one a hero and the other a stunted character? It’s like where is the drive to change what’s not working, you know?”
“And how do you know they’re not struggling?” He scoffs. However his discomfort grows when her frown deepens. “I just mean, they could be putting on a brave face.”
“Did you not hear me! I said they’re never seen struggling, not even a pinkie toe. They accept their lot, too afraid to change, too afraid to leave everything they’ve ever known! And they have no intention to! I won’t be seen making the same mistake as the sad characters I know in real life or in books or whatever.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to be seen as being human and failing would we?” He rolls his eyes at her.
“I never said I’m too perfect that I wouldn’t make any mistakes. I said I won’t make the same ones as these minor characters.” She got up to leave, gathering her things hastily, eyes angrily narrowing, “speaking of sad sack errors, you should leave mind reading to the pros, like mentalists. They’ve got a knack and you’ve got all the talent of a dried out potato.”
“Well, I’ll be a son of a spud, she’s extra pissy these days…” He thinks as the coffee shop’s door chimes tinkle, “…I just don’t want to follow.” His fingers drum on the table as his toe taps the floor,”…but I want to get up and follow…”
I’ve never been brave. I never had the time. While somewhere out in the world vague heroes were scaling mountains, putting out fires and taking away the knife from their throats, I was busy trying just to get buy.
They told me to be brave. But did they know what it really was to fear?
As I look forth towards the next chapter of my life I can’t help but feel fearful for entering such an unknown territory, but it is this fear that also propels me forward resolutely. I know that I must embrace this unknown with optimism and bravery, for it is really the unknown and our infinite lack of comprehension of such a phenomena that keeps us from progressing.
i was brave, sure you could say that I wasnt but Im really sure I was. One day I had to endure a lot of pain and suffering, being brave was the only thing that kept me alive, that kept me on my feet
“He was so brave, riding out into battle like that,” she thought as she watched her love from the castle tower window. He rode out on his trusted steed, his silver armor glinting in the sunlight as his army rode behind him.
She knew that they’d win. She knew that good would prevail. The thing that she was worried about was that his life would be the price to bring them victory.
She wiped tears from her eyes and turned away from the window. And then she waited.
Waited to see if he would come back.
Waited for his touch.
Waited for his smile.
And she waited until her dying day.
“He was so brave, riding out into battle like that,” she thought as she watched her love from the castle tower window. He rode out on his trusted steed, his silver armor glinting in the sunlight as his army rode behind him.
She knew that they’d win. She knew that good would prevail. The thing that she was worried about was that his life would be the price to bring them victory.