anyoldworld
withholding my love just a little bit. being just a little bit to scared to really really go there. to really really admit that i can't conceive of a world of living without you.
stride in that direction, kid. take a walk. journey far. and send me a postcard.
eye lashes. fifty lashes.
soft
and brutal.
who knew?
Gretchen sat at the kitchen table. Rollers in her hair. Sipping her tea. She tried not to look across at the empty chair. Maybe he'd come back this morning.