bella832
I don't have a lot of secrets, or a lot of other people's secrets-- well, not important secrets. This is probably a big flaw in my life. Where's my arch-nemesis, my sidekick, my secret lair, my magical fairy friends? Unknown tunnels and sliding library doors covered with books, car chases and investigations; where's my secret double life? My big, fat juicy secret? Instead I have to remember to clip my nails and be places on time. Sigh.
When you've got a secret, you can feel it weighing you down like too much dinner at Thanksgiving. It follows you everywhere you go, and the bigger the secret, the worse it is, the heavier it gets. And when you're talking to someone about the subject, you feel like they know, they just know, and they can see straight through you.
I raised the camera high above my head, reaching and reaching, tipping on my tip-toes. CLICK. There, I got a shot. I quickly pressed the playback button and looked at what I had taken. Great. Gray-green mishmash
writing since 2012 · 8 entries · 7 days shown up
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the words Izzy reaches for
secretsecretsheadreachingwhere'sannoyingasparagusclubnowloudlymissioncrossraisedcameratippingtip