nedra
She coiled the string tightly around her index finger. Though it was starting to throb and turn an alarming shade of pink, she needed to know that she was still there. After everything that had happened to make her feel invisible.
The pines stood like sentries, guarding the ancient forest from marauders and plunderers. Unfortunately, they were no match for a lumber crew wielding finely-honed axes.
The bottles hung from the ceiling of the small hut. Filled with water, each glowed eerily with a small flashlight attached to spread the light. He sat in the corner, cross-legged, with a chipped plate in his lap, using his fingers to catch the remains of the gravy from his dinner, noisily sucking the last drops.
They say that slow and steady wins the race. But wouldn't quick and steady be even better? I'd rather be the hare than the tortoise, and run my little bunny heart out. Who wants to be beaten by a turtle??
The tag said “Do Not Tumble Dry” but she never paid much attention to what anyone told her. Had to do things her way. Even if it meant her sweater shrank to her midriff with fresh three-quarter sleeves.
The tag said "Tumble Dry" but she never paid much attention to what anyone told her. Had to do things her way. Even if it meant her sweater shrank to her midriff with three-quarter sleeves.
I've been homeless for almost 3 years. Not "living on the street" homeless, but not having my own home. Crashing on friends' couches, sometimes going home with someone I barely know. But I refuse to sleep outside like a dog. I may be poor, but I will keep the meager shreds of dignity I can.
"Why are you so oblique? I have to explain everything to you like you're a baby. It drives me crazy."
"If you would just tell me what you mean from the beginning and not assume I can read your mind, I wouldn't have to ask you over and over to get a straight answer."
He had bulging muscles, an Adonis-like facial structure and the kind of body that any woman would adore. But he was such a mental weakling that any physical attraction I might have felt was completely cancelled out.
The weathered paint on the old barn mirrored the farmer's craggy face. The peeling beams had seen chickens, cows and horses come and go over the years. And the sun-toughened hand had been the one to bring them in and usher them out, over and over until he was finally the one being ushered out to retirement.
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writing since 1969 · 26 entries · 24 days shown up
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