shnlynne
I stayed on my half of the bed, just staring as you lie away reading in the dim light of one bedside lamp. I watched your eyes start to fall shut as your brain was sinking into dreams that had nothing to do with the essay you were reading. I watched your lips silently forming each letter, caught in a gape when you were treading back over the same sentence to seek meaning. I stayed on my half only until you put the paper down.
The evidence was clearly tossed around in a haze of blood and rose petals. D'artagnon stood gaping at the all too familiar scene knowing the CSI would not find a shred of it tucked so carefully beneath the set up. The killer was pristine, carefully, methodical- and really pissing D'artagnon off right about now. It had gone from too personal to mockery. He would not stand for the blatant slap in the face. D'artagnon would find him.
There was a banner above the doorway, drooping further down than it should have been. Past the door the ground was littered with confetti. On the table stood cups half full with soda, juice, or beer. All they were were reminders of something that was no longer mine. Everything was rushed away suddenly, and I didn't want it back- not now. The case took precedent over my celebration. I was better, that was true, but in my line of work a gunshot wound happened. There was nothing left to celebrate now that the case had turned sour and there was nothing i could do since it was the case of my shooter.
Simple, mundane, nothing out of the ordinary- I knew that's how it all looked spread across the table. But it was my work, my creature, and I'd bring it to life somehow. I just needed to find that spark, the real essence of it all- forget it, it was trite and unloved and would never become something profound. All of that writing, the moths that ate up my life, only ever produced average writing.
He looked fine in his dress clothes, a real gentleman. But you could tell he didn't belong. Malcom Reynolds could pull of near any role but distinguished was not one of them. He had a reputation to uphold after all. Inara stared at his outstretched hand and thought, "Well, a dance would be just fine, as long as he's just playing."
If I offer myself up to you, will you be complacent? I have only that left, my body- as you've taken my pride, ambition, and soul. Is my body going to be enough for your thirst? I wish it were so and perhaps then I could bargain, I could barter body for soul. I can live without control of this body but I'd like to have my soul back, you greedy narcissist.
I just wanted to try one more time. I knew I could do it given the chance. The whole world was hanging in the balance for me and a chance was all that I needed. I'd gone into this on a whim to begin with so who were they to deny me one last try? Hold me heart and watch me dive.
He stepped up to the plate,wringing his hands on the bat's handle. He knew this pitcher would pitch fast and he'd just gotten off of the t-ball stand. His mother was watching, somewhere behind him and he wanted to hit the ball. He stepped a little closer to the plate, watching and waiting. The ball came flying at him. Wham! He snapped his arms quickly. The ball sailed back behind him and the umpire yelled, "Strike one!"
She sang to me, Calypso. A muse to my heart and my soul and I could do nothing more than sit and listen. Though she urged me on to do great things, wonderfully terrible things of which I yearned to do, I could not. My legs would not work no matter how my muse screamed and the hot tears streaking down my cheeks answered her song.
The Band Perry....
The young want to live fast, the old just want to live. If I die young I'll know that I gave it my all, that I loved life and those living it with me. If I die young, give me my roses and river, but don't forget all that I've given in my short time here. I gave it for you, for you all.
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