reboundstudent
His face wasn't beautiful, not in the symmetrical sense anyway. His nose was a little too long and his eyes too wide set to be traditionally beautiful. She noticed, though, the interesting way the way his lips curled at the corners when he smiled, or how he twitched his nose when he laughed. In happiness, his was an interesting face.
The child slid cautiously down the first step, fatty little feet reaching timidly through the air. She gingerly placed it, and when she had the courage, put her full weight on it. This wasn't so hard, her tiny body reasoned, and she decended the next with greater speed. So confident was she by the third that she barely paid attention to where she put her toes; and with a great cry, they betrayed her.
Down into the darkness, all sides in against her skin, compressing the air, forcing out light and thought and life. All she can do was panic, the blood spraying through her veins, pumping n constriction to the world she found herself in. Soon she would perish, in a ball, in terror.
I took in the delightful smell of fine French bread as I entered the charming cafe. Everything seemed to be built in miniature, all nestled together, chairs and tables nearly on top of the serving counter. It felt intimate and private at the same time.
She could smell the gasoline, in a Coke bottle he held in one hand, as the other gripped her throat, pining her against the wall. She couldn't see his face; all she would remember in years to come was the nostril-shearing smell of putrid fossils and death.
Hair billowing out in all directions, she turned in circles on the spot. Her eyes were bugged and wild. Her dress was tattered. She looked absolutely out of her mind with grief. "How could you?" she cried over and over, like a child throwing a tantrum in a grocery store aisle," How could you!" She clearly didn't expect an answer.
Her hands were sharp and claw-like, sticking out like rakes from her lacy ruffles sleeves. Her nose, more bird-like than human, sat above a pair of stern, thin lips the colors of prunes. Her hair was tied back in a tight, high knot, giving her the all over impression of a harsh school mistress.
writing since 2011 · 15 entries · 15 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Marty showed up.
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