Sunday, September 27, 2015

Drabble #6

We walked to the window and I pulled aside the velvet mauve curtains.
"Wow, look at that view," I breathed, looking out the window at the lake. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah, it really is," he said softly, looking at me, and only me. 
I turned to him. He was looking at me in that special way. I wanted to burst out laughing. We were a stereotypical couple easily found in any and every contemporary young adult novel-- girl sees beautiful view, guy only sees girl.
I didn't laugh. I smiled, and laced my fingers through his. "Let's go dance some more."

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Drabble #5

Sara looked out the window at nothing in particular. Perhaps she was looking at the big green tree in the center or the tiled red roof to the left or the big brown telephone pole to the right. Perhaps she was looking at the window itself. The window could be fascinating, to some people. Fingerprints. Dust. Glass. Glass was fascinating, right? Maybe she was looking at the smeared bug guts on the mesh screen. It had been a mean one... the bug, I mean. I killed it. There was nothing to look at. I didn't understand. But really, who did?

Drabble #4

I collapsed on the floor, sobbing at the nasty brown carpet floor. I grabbed on tightly to the edge of my desk, trying to stop shaking. I couldn't. 

I hated crying. I hated it. I was tired of it. So I stopped. I stared emptily in front of me, looking at nothing at all. I sat. Then, I thought about sex. Then, I cried again.

There was nothing to be done. Nothing could be done. What should've been done was not done. Could've, would've, should've, but wasn't done. Nothing at all, nothing could be done. Nothing... was to be done. 

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Drabble #3

He isn't treating me the way I deserve to be treated. I wish he would.

I understand that he gets tired too, that things are hard for him too, that things are shitty and crappy and everything in between. But he's not communicating correctly. I wish he would.

I am suffering. But suffering for what? All this time, I have been suffering for him. For us. But now, he's hardly giving me anything to suffer for. I wish he would.

He's living in oblivion, irresponsibility, and exhaustion. I wish he wouldn't.

I wish things would change. Why aren't they changing?

Saturday, June 20, 2015

Drabble #2

I feel like a grain of sand on a great big beach. Just one insignificant grain-- it wouldn't matter if I were drenched in water and turned into part of a sand castle. It wouldn't matter if I got attached to the bottom of someone's foot, or God forbid, to their ass. It wouldn't matter if I ended up on the seat of a car after someone realized that there was sand all over their legs. In the end, it really wouldn't matter where I end up, not one bit. Because I definitely know one thing-- that I'll be fine.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Drabble #1

"I wish you would stop looking at me like that," Chloe said without turning her head. The sun was setting, slowly inching past the horizon. Its brilliant orange rays shone on her hair, and turned her dark hair into a glowing copper.
"Looking at you like what?" Matt asked, even though he knew. He just wanted to hear her say it. He sat down next to her on the porch swing.
"Like you could never get tired of looking at me," she said, an undeniable hint of sadness in her voice.
"You're right. I could never get tired of that."

Monday, April 20, 2015

Drabble #73

The little blue box didn't look like anything in particular. It looked like something you would go to the bathroom in, in full honesty. Based on its sign, it was a telephone box... apparently. But what kind of telephone box didn't have windows? Shady stuff. People probably did some shady stuff in that shady box, who knew? The girl didn't know why, but when the door suddenly creaked open, she wasn't afraid. In fact, there was something awfully familiar about the whole situation, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what. So, there was obviously one thing to do: she stepped inside.

Drabble #72

I love it when you push me against a wall and put your hand on the small of my back, pressing me against you. I love it when you kiss me with so much passion in the back of the movie theater, disregarding everything else. But, really, I love it most of all when we have those stolen moments, when no one else is around, even if it's just for a little bit-- when you look at me and quietly tell me that you want to kiss me, and you do, it's so incredibly sweet and my heart completely melts. 

Drabble #71

Stella let out a sigh of exasperation and let her previously hovering hands slam down onto her keyboard. She took off her glasses and rubbed her aching eyes. Her butt had already started to fall asleep, and it was only 9PM. There was nothing to write about, and even worse, nothing she could do about it. Writing stories used to come easily-- what happened? Life sucks ass, she thought miserably to herself.
"Maybe I should become a stripper," she said aloud, and then immediately chuckled at how ridiculous the idea sounded. "You're definitely not hot enough to be a stripper."

Monday, February 16, 2015

Drabble #70

My sister laughed maniacally as she hurriedly tore the paper out of her old journal, crumbled it up into a ball, and shoved it into her mouth. I stared, half shocked, half amused, as she chewed up the paper ball with her teeth. 
"Crazy girl," I muttered to myself. 
She took it out of her mouth and offered it to me. "Still want it?"
She, out of all people, knew me. I didn't have a fear of saliva. (Saliva-phobia? Whatever.) I just preferred not to touch hers. 
I snatched it out of her hand and ran out of the room.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Drabble #69

My aunt Cora puts a lock on her bedroom door every time she gets ready to leave for church. It’s true: she doesn’t live in a very safe neighborhood. You can tell by the number of times she's had her car jacked (four) and how often she heard police sirens every day (very). When I was little, full of childish naiveté, I asked her why she locked her door so securely. She looked at me, almost amused, and then crouched down to whisper in my ear: “Because I’m afraid your uncle is going to steal my money.”

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Drabble #68

Kelly sat down at the small glass table with her hot coffee. Today's going to be different, she told herself, convinced. After all, I didn't bring my laptop today. More time to think with less distractions.
She looked up. "Sorry, who are you?"
The man had clear, genuine green eyes, wavy black hair, and a jawline that could cut glass. His smile turned into a concerned frown. 'You don't remember me?"
"I'm assuming we've met before. And I guess I blew my chance at pretending to know you," Kelly said sheepishly, yet shamelessly, without bothering to filter her words.

Monday, February 2, 2015

Drabble #67

"The only way you can possibly get disappointed is if you get your hopes up too high in the first place," Carol told Sonia. "My, it's just like potential gravitational energy," she added. Amused, Carol picked up her pencil and continued to furiously scribble through her physics homework.
"Carol!" Sonia snapped, irritated that her friend was incapable of even putting down her pencil.
"What?" Carol looked up, over the top rim of her nerdy black glasses. "I speak the truth. Just try not to get too excited next time."
Although Sonia hated it, deep inside, she knew Carol was right.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Drabble #66

I think we both know that I'm a hopeless romantic. So it's a given that I'm in love with the way you look at me and the way you laugh at all my jokes. I'm in love with the way you selflessly offered me your jacket on our first date when it got pretty cold. I'm in love with the way we can have endless flirtatious conversations. I'm in love with the way your shoulder serves as the perfect place to put my head. But in my opinion, there's no simple pleasure greater than the pleasure of holding your hand.

to the one who makes me happy

Friday, January 23, 2015

Drabble #65

The dragon was covered in scintillating scales, each one of them reflecting the sun. Smoke aggressively billowed out of its nostrils, heavily tainting the air. Its eyes, actively scanning the sky, were a beautiful icy blue. Todd placed a clammy hand on the handle of his sword. The dragon opened its mouth and released a mighty roar, followed by a long blast of orange fire. Todd's heart jumped. He hoped that his inevitable death would be quick and painless. Slay the dragon, or you die, Todd told himself, remembering the words of the king. I guess I die either way.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Drabble #64

"What do you think is the meaning of life?"
The man looked at his eight year-old daughter. "Success. Everyone wants success, my darling girl."
"That's not right," the girl shook her head, vigorously disagreeing with her father.
"Then what is the meaning of life to you?"
"To be happy! Everyone should be happy about something. What makes you happy, daddy?"
"You and your mother make me happy," he smiled at her, watching her messily devour her ice cream cone. In that moment, silently looking off into the distance, the man began to see the world with a whole new perspective.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Drabble #63

Gwen stared at Thomas with a calm expression, but the strong emotion bubbling inside of her icy blue eyes was evident. She wanted an explanation.
"How do you know?" she asked him, bewildered.
"What do you mean, how do I know?" Thomas chuckled, half amused that Gwen could look so surprised and calm at the same time.
"How do you know you love me?"
"I've come to realize that I wouldn't give up a single moment with you for anything else in the entire world. That's when I knew I've fallen so hard that there's no way I'm getting up."

Friday, January 2, 2015

Drabble #62

Will, braking aggressively, abruptly stopped the car before the white line. The old lady shot him a dirty look as she continued to cross the street. Just a few seconds ago, she had looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes and mouth wide open, probably scared out of her mind.
Sorry, ma'am, Will mouthed to her, giving her an apologetic look. 
He proceeded through the intersection, distracted, not expecting the body that suddenly landed on his windshield. The person slowly turned around. Will screamed, not because someone had just landed on his car, but because that person was himself.