klaitylady
I suppose the water is real. Bubbling, off-green, and real.
Why does water look green? He wondered.
He always assumed that water appeared a certain color due to reflection, like the way the ocean looks blue because of the sky. But what was the bath water reflecting?
I have to go to San Diego. I suppose I don't have to, but I feel obligated. It's been almost a year since I've seen her; since either of us have visited. She came to Seattle the last two times, and so I suppose it's my turn.
It wouldn't be so bad if it were warm there. Yes, I know that San Diego, in general, is warm. But it's January. If I want overcast skies, I can stay in Seattle.
May. June. That's when I'll go.
Wasteland. Garbage Dump. Why I Live at the Town Dump. Eudora Welty.
The free association flowed through her fingertips, despite her resistance to the project. She thought her English teacher was stupid. Not stupid in an I-don't-like-you-and-can't-think-of-a-better-insult sort of way, but stupid in a legitimately-not-too-bright sort of way. Still, she couldn't deny that the free association assignment was fascinating.
Her skin glowed, the way a pregnant woman's would in the beginning of her pregnancy, before she even knew about it.
She was not pregnant.
On second guess, you would probably think her in love. She's not that either.
She has a secret. A Mona Lisa kind of secret.