I forgot what it means to feel intimidated by the rising of what could swallow me whole. The view of it from a distance is so beautiful. I can’t swim. Yet here I am in front of it, waiting for it to take me in. I can’t swim, so there’s no better time to not drown than now.
This little monologue/narration goes hand in hand with my work in progress and was fueled by my overworked brain, Starbucks, and Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black Album. I hope you enjoy both the story and the music.Read More »
Today I share with you four short stories, each in five sentences. Enjoy.
He didn’t have to lie. She didn’t ask. He lied anyway. Now he would have to face her wrath, however it may manifest. Too bad.
Did he think it was funny to stand her up? Surely, it couldn’t have been a joke. She didn’t find it funny. Still, she’d continue to set up dates with him just to see if he’d show up. Eventually, she got tired and told her own joke.
How could she make him like her again? She’d made a fool of herself on more than one occasion trying to appease him. She couldn’t handle his rejection. So, she’d work her magic. And he would feel it.
There was a hole there now. She had opened it, but rejection and disappointment closed it. Betrayal ripped a hole in it. Who knew whether it was a good or bad thing to be open unintentionally. Both the heart and the ego had been torn.