amamarie
For about a minute she considered spending the coin on something pretty, shiny, useless. Or perhaps she would buy a treat, sweet and decadent. With more thought, she changed her mind. She held the golden coin up to eclipse the sun, and squinting at it, knew there was a better way to spend it.
The corridor is long and there are no doors or windows. I've been walking for hours and haven't seen another soul or the first hint that there is an end coming soon. I don't dare turn around tonight, however. With the moon this full and the veil so thin, I can't turn back.
The stubborn weeds grew all along the edges of the garden. I pulled them up by the roots, viciously yanking the unwanted vegetation, thereby releasing a small part of my frustration.
It lets you down slowly, unlike most things in life. It doesn't drop you to the lowest place you've ever been without thinking, without looking back. It's gentle with you, and it isn't real.
Backseat drivers, one bathroom houses, bad grammar, terrible breath, no coffee, calories.
I put myself back together one aching, jagged piece at a time. I try not to pay attention to the little drips of ruby splattered at my feet. I try not to look at the pieces too small to go anywhere. Eventually I will fill those holes in with new material. It's all part of the reconstruction.
Running through the crystal shining night, sliding on the icy patches and catching on thorns and briars she doesn't think. She doesn't stop. She only runs faster. At the end of the narrow path there is a chance. If she can make it that far she will have one final chance to show them that she is not timid.
Steady the beating rhythm. Count your inhalations, exhalations. Don't think too much. Just move steadily forward.
Lovers promenade in pairs down the streets of Paris. But I'm not in Paris, am I? No, I have a single lonely shadow to walk with and no other. My company is my own to keep.
Striped socks. She tried to warn me. How many times did she say it? How many times did I fail to listen? And this is where it has landed me. Or rather, this is what it has landed UPON me. Next time I will remember. "When you're a witch, striped socks are like a neon sign on your back begging for a flying house to fall out of the sky."
load more entries