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 »
Opening her tired, heavy eyes, she took in the view of the ceiling. He told her that he loved her without any prompting. Did he really mean it? Maybe. All she knew was that her brain was in overdrive trying to figure out a more ideal scenario and her heart was unwilling to to be vulnerable to foolishness once more.
He asked to join her at her favorite hangout spot. The place was her home away from home. She knew his name, his passwords, date of birth and other vital information, all of it given freely. Perhaps extending an invitation wasn’t the worst thing she could do. She’d opened up more sensitive places already.
She glanced at the time. How much of it did she have to waste? She almost wished he would lie to her because as much as she desired the truth, it would be so much easier to drop him if he were a liar. Life was so much simpler when all she had to worry about was being tired from working all of the time. Now, her psyche was being put to work.
© LeTara Moore, 2017
Tell me your story
Start from the beginning
Of when you felt like you were losing
But in reality you were winningRead More »
She’d been here for years; dare she leave now? Her tears had flooded the house in which they lived, yet she stayed afloat due to the life-preservers known as her children. She’d had a mind to set the place on fire, but salt around the house did the trick. He had caused enough fires, so now he could burn in them. She was gone.
© LeTara Moore, 2016
It was almost finished. She had spent hours preparing it just the way she thought he’d like, putting her heart and soul into every step of the process. This would be the best-tasting birthday cake she’d ever baked and she hoped that he would like it, if he came home. Read More »