Tag Archives: catastrophe
Still waiting
Wake up. Just wake up and come back, would you? I can hear you, when I’m sleeping. I can hear you when I dream. I can almost taste you, the kisses that weren’t ever ours. You’re not far, but it’s … Continue reading
Only ever love
I hate everything about this place: the ticking clock, the fluorescent light, the sound of the water cooler. Nothing here is comforting. Nothing here seems safe or warm. They have her in the back; I heard her crying, earlier. They … Continue reading
Recognizable
The ferocity of the slap rocked her head back; she resettled her stance and lifted her chin, defiant, navy eyes staring him down. “That all you got?” she wondered, and the curve of her lips twisted into a challenging smirk. … Continue reading
The Old Apartment
When I walk into her rooms, they’re a wreck. I should have known it would be, but I’m still somewhat surprised by the level of filth that always managed to accumulate, and the way she lived in it, without caring. … Continue reading
She Wanted Me To Tell You
His name is Thomas and it is always Thomas unless it isn’t and unless it is something else entirely something that has always been a backandforth about clarity and light, with starry eyes. He knows this, as fiercely as he … Continue reading