He smiled. "That is the key - the day when you realize that you've worked so hard and endured so long that feeling uncomfortable has become easy and feeling comfortable has become hard."
He hardly spoke a word to anyone that night. That's the first thing I remember. His eyes scoured the crowd with a predator like hunger laced with a flavor of intense cynicism. That's the second thing. The third? How badly I wanted to get with his blonde friend.
I raised the deep green crystal to my shoulder. With considerable force and an iron will to keep my voice muffled, I dug the lines of the symbol into my skin. The pain was everywhere, though most assuredly in the spot I had mutilated, but it mattered not; my fascination overruled all else.
The vibrations of the hard-packed dirt underfoot softened, the screams melted to sobs, and Durga and I huddled close until the raw stench of reality became unavoidable.
And he let go. I watched his face as I fell, emotionless, soulless. Not the man I once knew. Not the man I loved. His eyes of ice, regarding me as a lost puppy or burning bush as my legs and arms flailed helplessly through the air, forever lost to the possibilities of what … Continue reading A Few Paltry Droplets…Drip 29
And they hoped and they wished and they dreamed, their imaginations dancing in the gentle kiss of the warm and nurturing rain...
One look. One look into those tantalizing eyes, that's all I ask. I can't help it; I want him. I want him to see me - to see the depth of my desire. I know it's wrong, I know he'll be upset, but I dive recklessly, swimming vehemently through the waves of blue that shore … Continue reading A Few Paltry Droplets…Drip 15
I tried to pretend they weren't there most of the time. That I was still beautiful irresistible Ellie with the soft and flawless skin. Therapy. School counsellors. Late night talks with dad. I hated all of it. Despised it. I wasn't going to go back there again. They were not a part of me. They … Continue reading A Few Paltry Droplets…Drip 14
Her favorite daydream was one of children arranging secret clans in the streets while their parents slept, sick and dying townsfolk at every corner and only one way to save them. Only the children knew, and each night they'd crowd in the Square to receive the healing rays of the moon while they awaited the … Continue reading A Few Paltry Droplets…Drip 12
I brush the soft waxed wood of the pew in front of me. It still feels the same. The cushion I rest on feels the same; and pretty much everyone around me looks the same. Except me.