cjolin
Jump and giggle and giggle. Her red sneakers squeaked on the gym floor while everyone laughed. No, kidding--she stretched and so did her smile.
He leaned over my shoulder, his breath stank like the bottom of a garbage truck. I hated the new manager. He was a joke that only we workers got. When everything went smoothly, it wasn't because of him--it was sheer luck.
I knew he wasn't telling me the truth the moment his eyes flicked to the left. His eyebrow twitched and his month straightened into a line. Nope, he wasn't leveling with me at all.
It was hot, really hot. Boiling. Temperature and tempters flared. The knife was bloody in my hand, then I threw it down. What had I done?
writing since 2011 · 4 entries · 4 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Cheryl showed up.
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hotgiggleboilingtemperaturetemptersflaredknifebloodyhandthrewdonetellingtruthmomenteyesflicked