jujubees
The quiet was near discomfiting as I walked downstairs, iPod in one hand and pants in the other. I was going to dance in my underwear this weekend, thank the heavens for sending my parents on a business trip.
Aaron found that they were not actually enjoying the height as much as they thought they would; the air was edging too close to humid, and the planks forming the tree-house were damp.
Smoke wreathed his head and hat alike, and June took a step back, one lower eyelid twitching slightly.
"It's laughable," I mumbled to myself, "that my life is literally so dysfunctional it might make good television."
Your knees tremble at every step as you make that long, agonizing journey down the familiar hallway, trying desperately to force yourself to make it to the door, but aware that reaching it will change things in a significant measure.
As much as I knew I needed a tutor - my parents were right - I sat on my bed thinking that I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to acknowledge that I couldn't do trigonometry on my own, and I chuckled.
"Very funny. By which I mean 'not funny'," I found myself saying to the cat. Naturally he would perch himself on the one shelf I couldn't reach.
Snow fell in not-entirely-graceful clumps, since it was just barely warm enough to melt through the cold, and I sat inside.
You can practically feel the rage of the planet underneath your feet, and you barely touch the ground you run so fast.
Star patches lingered over the darkened sky as she breathed deeply, hoping to catch a ray of light or a mind-warping mystery inside her lungs.
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