pryione
She was only half. The better half or the worse half, nobody knew. Her twin was the other half. Together they were whole. Whole is always better than half, but half is always better than none.
It was an assault, on me. Assaults are the kind of things that happen on TV. How could it happen to me. I heard gunfire. Then the footsteps of the firer. 3, 2, 1. I was gone.
Buckets. We see them so sparsely, now a days. Now, we carry our possessions in fashionable bags. Sad, isn't it. When I think of buckets, I think of a little girl, with a red bucket in her hands. She holds it without a care in the world, just like the world used to be.
writing since 2012 · 4 entries · 3 days shown up
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halfbucketsbetterbucketcarryrednowhappenwholeusefulfungenerallygirlspigtailscarrying