glweston
I didn't believe it. Not for a second. The old man told it with style and panache, and it was as entertaining as could be. But it was pure fiction.
I finally figured it out. She didn't want me, but only what I could do for her. I was a tool, a means, a bridge to something else.
Tick, tick, tick... Up the track we went. My heart beat so hard in my chest, I thought it might explode. I could hear my own pulse in my ears. Tick, tick, tick... We crested, and the coaster sprang to life beneath me.
The smoked filled room pulsed with the rhythm of the piano and bass, and wave after wave of sound cascaded over the gin-soaked patrons.
writing since 2010 · 4 entries · 4 days shown up
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tickwavesmokedfilledroompulsedrhythmpianobasssoundcascadedginsoakedpatronstrackheart