mbickford
I saw the game the ducks play earlier. You get out of your car and they swarm you hoping for some food. I just walked on past, assuming the rum fruitcake in my bag would not be suitable. I enjoyed a crisp wintery walk in their park just the same.
The affairs and consequences of the past seven years will come to an end. This was what she wanted read out by her lawyer at the reading of her will. The family drama that had undermined her successes will cease to be. That'll show 'em.
Boredom at work is beginning to take a serious toll on me. I'm no longer afraid of being caught slacking off; I take frequest laps around the office to see if there's anyone to distract me; I consider calling in sick every day then come in anyway. Not exactly a glowing recommendation for the perks of a Bachelors degree.
I walk slowly in the cool fall evening. Despite everything in me telling me that "I'm okay", I'm not feeling it tonight. I try to walk the negative feelings out, but the loneliness of the Mount Pearl street magnifies my dour mood.
I don't wear headphones as I enjoy being in the moment on my hikes and walks out and about this town. I feel like that is a part of the exercise, BEING outdoors. The birds, the wind, the other people. You stick a pair of headphones in and it's like you take yourself out of the world.
I sit back on my haunches. Aware of a breeze, I close my eyes as the leaves and branches move towards my face. I am closing in on a crow feeding on something left on the lawn. I crouch low and a growl escapes my throat in spite of myself.
Whether you eat the bread or not, is not my concern. It's whether you replace it with something we can eat tomorrow. Justin said that there was no need for concern; he didn't like whole wheat bread anyway, he'd find something he liked better in the fridge.
Could you puncture me any deeper. The torture never ends in this small city; you can barely escape the ex, let alone his parents, siblings, friends, etc. And then they have to ask me, "how are you doing"?
It was a trap. She had conceived of this for years. He gasped as he looked below and saw her, at the bottom of the well. She gazed up at him, eyes barely opened, face filthy, dress in tatters.
His methods confused me. Why go on an on like that, with no foreseeable end in sight? I still adored him; those brown puppy eyes, lab coat still on, walking around like he owned the place. He was "home", and I was smitten.
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writing since 2012 · 25 entries · 25 days shown up
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