The only thing that kept him from drinking again was writing her name on the whiskey bottle he kept on his nightstand. Every time he looked at it, desperate for a shot, he remembered how she struggled with her last breath, using it to curse him for what he’d done. Continue reading
It was then clarity hit. He knew his actions had done the opposite of what he’d wanted. He knew that when he told her, he would lose the one thing he’d tried to save. He’d broken the living’s law and The Code. In one single action, he became an outlaw and an outcast, forever on the run and separated from the one person he never wanted to live without. Continue reading
I am jealous of this sleek, black lover of his; the one that sits uncomplainingly in the corner and awaits his ministrations. I too wait and want. But I’m not so easily played, nor does the music I make sound as sensuous as hers when he strokes her the way she likes. Continue reading
Take the road less travelled they said. But really, who wants the frustration of not knowing if they’re actually getting anywhere? The shorter route is quick, sweet, and free from having to hassle the brambles. Continue reading
Another writing exercise inspired by Three Word Wednesday. I just love challenging myself to write something in 100 words or less. Continue reading
“It looks like real crystal.” “Would you expect anything less?” Setting the glass down on the table between them, he looks directly at her, crooking the corner of his mouth in that familiar way, the one that tells her another … Continue reading
The trajectory of the shot was short, but the damage sustained was nearly the same as if it’d been a direct hit. Innocent bystanders nervously waited as the bickering had proven their capacity for reciprocity. Thus, it was only a … Continue reading
window and… by ~ahmetkasim on deviantART It wasn’t a fit of temper that’d driven the recluse in apartment 3B to do it. They thought I cajoled her in, using words that succeeded where others failed. But there was no persuasion … Continue reading