yurwity
She had no less than fourteen barettes in her hair--in purely deocrative places--each one with a plastic sweet glued o one end. Her hair was blue at the roots and pink at the tips.
"What are you looking at?" she said.
The sand scraped her knuckles. She pinched the sand dollar lightly, blew the sand off it, and held it out to him flat in her palm.
"I don't want that," he said, shrugging, hands in his pockets.
She pushed the teabag own with the end of her spoon and let it pop back up.
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"Smells good," Sonja said.
"Mm."
"Lavender?"
"Mhmm."
"It doesn't have to be now, but you know we are going to have to talk about the letter eventually."
Liza lay the compass down atop the stack of white stones from the riverbank, quietly, without even a scrape of metal on rock. The cracked glass face glinted in the low evening light. They could no longer use it, but she hoped it would be enough to help Corey find his way back to them.
Her hand was cramping, but there were only 6 entries left, so she maintained her rhythm. One, two, three, four, click, copy, click, paste--two, three, four...
This, the steady click and clatter, was the only way to be sure she was coding the reports correctly - she wasn't going to reread her work.
"He thinks he's God's gift to mankind," Aunt Wanda said, flicking suds from her fingers.
Annie handed her aunt a dishtowel, looking away. She managed to keep herself from saying, "isn't he?" but couldn't stop herself from blushing.
The veins in his biceps bulged. (Red wire, blue wire.) With a considerable amount of noise, perhaps more than was strictly necessary despite the bulging veins, Jon hefted the boulder over his head.
"That wasn't too bad," he said, and Jeanette knew she'd been right to suspect all the moaning and groaning was for dramatic effect. He wasn't even slightly out of breath.
"That's what's left of the ancient Romans," he said.
"What do you mean 'what's left?' I'm pretty sure they were never in Louisianna. And what about, you know, the modern Romans?"
"Oh you know what I mean."
Twigs snapped under foot, releasing the scent of pine. In the long shadows, mushrooms twined with weeds and wild blueberries. It was beautiful. It was a war for space, for room to grow.
Kathy stapped high over a bush and kept going without looking back. The only sounds were the birds and her own breathing.
The sharp lines and unpainted, smooth white face of the new dresser made Sam's heart lift. It was a quiet victory, one that hardly demanded a smile let alone much else. But all the same, the satisfaction in tossing out the old, ornate, crumbling trunk his late mother had left behind was a great satisfaction.
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writing since 2014 · 202 entries · 200 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Yona showed up.
21longest streak
200days written
1.5entries / week
the words Yona reaches for
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