Unfounded Belief: A Soliloquy

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 »

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Wounded

Today I share with you four short stories, each in five sentences. Enjoy.

Truth-withholder

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.

Unfunny

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.

Rejected

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.

Punctured

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.

 

© LeTara Moore, All Rights Reserved

 

Puncture

Insecure

There’s always some foolishness involved somewhere. No matter how good you’ve tried to be or how well you’ve tried to straighten your priorities, there’s always something.

For instance, I took an entire year to focus on me and my life’s work. No relationships for me. The last one gave the impression that he cared, but he wandered about his life aimlessly and, well, I was trying to steady my aim. The one before him was only meant for fun, but then he started to become affectionate. Then I learned, unwillingly, that he was lying to me about things I had not asked about. Before him, I was interested and so was he, but he wanted to take ownership of me though he’d go weeks without returning my calls.

I’d had enough! I was still on strike until the day He walked in. A few weeks later he said he loved me. It would be all well and good if his female roommate didn’t exist. Hey, at least he told me about her, right? 

I love how intimate our time is together. The laughs, the closeness is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. However, there’s a huge cloud that looms and I simply cannot. Cannot what?

He’s shared some of that intimacy with her at some point, I know. Do they still share it? The arrangement is for financial purposes, I know, but I. Just. Can. Not.

Regardless of how often he says it, I. Can. Not.

I wish I could believe him, but I. Can. Not.

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© LeTara Moore, 2017

Doubt