tangerine
They had history together, there was no doubt about that. But how much did that history affect their future? Some would say too much, some not at all. From her own point of view though, the history just made everything that much more poignant. Made her feel that much more strongly.
She stared at the hoop she grasped in her hand, light glinting off the glitter that adorned it. Taking a deep breath she threw the hoop high into the air. She watched as the hoop spun, sparkling in the sunlight. It was brand new, no dirt or scratches present but as she caught it in her hand again she knew that wouldn't last.
They were always making plans. For where they would go, for what they would see. But there were some things that just could not be planned for. Some things that just threw everything out and meant you needed to start from scratch. It was these chaotic things they lived for, whether they knew it or not.
The hills stretched out before her, their magnificent mottled green seeming to go on forever. If she hadn't known better she would've thought that nothing would interfere with such a view. However even from here she could spot the roads, although few, criss-crossing amongst the green, much like badly healed scars.
The horses stood still beneath the dappled light produced by the canopy above. They were only a few metres away and I knew if I made the slightest noise they would scatter like leaves in the wind. I paused and tilted my camera. The perfect shot. The click of the shutter echoed through the trees and the horses looked up from their grazing, their glorious eyes taking in my still form before returning to the grass.
The light in front of her flared brightly before quickly going out. She sighed. That had been her last match too. The darkness enveloped her as she pondered what to do next. Being trapped by a collapsed tunnel had not been part of her escape plan and now there was little to do but wait.
The turmoil inside her was so different to the stillness of the water that surrounded her. Here on a boat, floating on the lake of her childhood, she thought she would be able to find the peace that had so forsaken her. A peace so long forgotten.
He was their shepherd, their leader. No matter how much he didn't want it, they begged him to stay. They claimed that without him all they had created would fall apart. He tried and tried to convince them that the strength was within them. They never believed him and that was their downfall.
Suppose, suppose, suppose. That was all he ever did. I couldn't stand it for much longer! Why did he find it so hard to firmly agree or object to something? I didn't understand it, wasn't sure I could. He had always been that way and I was starting to think that perhaps he always would be.
She watched as water dripped off the umbrellas that passed beneath her window. Those umbrellas had become a necessity in her home-town. It was always raining, never stopping, only easing, giving the locals hope that perhaps the five year rain was at an end before crushing it by pouring minutes later.
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