musicrazi
Dizzy with excitement, she leapt across the street, darting through traffic. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, cars honking, hair flowing. She could hardly see straight. This was going to be her day.
Her fingers landed softly on the ivory keys. Each tap reminded her of the raindrops dancing on her window. Her heart beat faster as her hands moved faster and faster. Outside, a storm was coming.
His values consisted of one definition: pride. He based everything off of it. Nothing was done unless it was an affirmation of his accomplishments. After all, the only thing he had was himself.
The hill leveled out into a wide expanse of land. For miles ahead, prairie reached out to the horizon where the sun was just setting. Rays of blood orange and violet spilled out before us, lighting the world on fire. We were almost home.
He was the chosen one. He didn't want to be, but it wasn't as if he had a choice. He weighed the options in his head. There really weren't any. He sighed, picking up the knife from the wooden tabletop. Its sharp edge glittered underneath the low light and he shuddered at the thought of having to press it against anyone's neck.
The ferry arrived at exactly 7am in the morning, just like it did every day. But I remember something different about that particular sunrise. The salty sea wind was mingled with the scent of her perfume and the sun rays tasted like golden granules of sugar on my tongue. Yes, that morning was different than rest. That was the morning I met her.
How funny, she thought, that she could be so easygoing when it came to writing. Write, whatever. Words, whatever. They were her home and they couldn't hurt her. But out there, where the words were no longer her own and she had no control over how they were used, she remained in constant anxiety and fear.
Stop being so timid, people told her. You're too shy. Embarrassing. Weak. Afraid. And all of that was true, she thought. She was all of those things, but she was also strong, courageous, daring, and beautiful. I mean, aren't we all?
The world is much simpler than you think. The complexity of human beings is really something we make up in our own minds as we try to make sense of life. But then again, aren't we all just bundles of contradictions?
She loved traveling; the thought of all the worlds she had never explored intrigued her to such an extent that one day, she forgot where she had come from. She became a gypsy, traveling lands far and wide, and hoping that one day, she would find the end of the rainbow she had stared at so longingly as a child.
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writing since 2012 · 39 entries · 39 days shown up
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the words musicrazi reaches for
eyespastoutsideheadbeautifulwordscourseanotherrememberstaredrunningbehindwritealongdifferentbelieve