wendigogirl
Perhaps it was the glares, or the snide comments, or maybe it was even the sound of bedsprings creaking, but Jonathan was glad to be free of the apartment whenever Gabriel and Abraham got into a fight.
I really wish my high school had a band. I can remember how much fun it was to be with other geeks and to learn new notes and new songs. I miss the concerts. i miss watching the colored lights reflect off my trumpet. I miss the inside jokes and the events. I really miss band.
He thrashed out, smacking her in the face, the arms, the torso. And so she responded in the only way she knew how: she let out a high-pitched wail and then smacked him upside the head with her frying pan. He crumpled to the ground, and she sighed, then returned to making her pancakes.
I bit my lip. The handle was tight in my grip, the sweat on my hand making it feel slimy. I took a deep breath and shouted, "Jon McGregor, I love you!"
The difference between them was dramatic, to say the least. He was old, broken, grey; she was young, whole, vibrant. However, she loved him and he loved her. And, really, that was all that mattered.