jmexx3
She's pressed, but the against the wall kind of pressed where you don't have the time nor the energy to really come up with a way out, so you forge on ahead, pressed, as you are, flat, held up by the wall you lean against.
The smoke billows out from the sides of her mouth in elongated strands, stretching out past the edges of her face, and her hair and her thoughts, dispersing above her head just outside the field of light cast by the overhead lamp. Dragging, she grins.
She made forgetting easy; you just squeeze your eyes shut really tightly, and she disappears, because she didn't want to be there in the first place. She appeared sometimes, quietly, with her friends or sometimes alone, to get the thing she yearns for, and then poof...she is gone.
The radio played softly in the background, a jumbled combination of bad lyrics and static. She waves her arm absently and doesn't notice the flies buzzing round her head. I shudder. This is her life?