“What was that word again? The one that was on his face?” I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW. “What was that time again? You know, when he was in that place?” Stop. Just stop. “And what was the song he played? The one from…?”
Her fingers recoiling, it slipped from her grasp.
The urgency was suffocating and all she heard was line
after line after line after line
of how not to do it.
How would they find it? She couldn’t remember the rules and every step she ran, she jumped two steps back in clarity. She hated that he got to the formula before she had, and now she was paying for it.
He decided to surprise her. The last thing she would expect from him. He knew it was against the rules, but he would take her back. To the beginning. The problem was, the only vivid outline was from their last fight. Why couldn’t he find the bridge? He had the formula after all…
He was right.
There was something exhaustibly hilarious about the situation. She just couldn’t remember what it was. After all, it had been a few days since the operation, and they assured her it would grow back. But she was the anomaly, wasn’t she? Was that the funny part?
She looked over to the bucket of words but it was almost empty. She sighed. Her sighing normally turned things inside out beautifully, but not this time. This time she stopped half way.
I never noticed that before, that ceiling, she thought to herself. All this time, she hadn’t noticed the fabric of her security. But she had never floated like this before. The current had always looked uncomfortable.
The boat rocked gently convincing her she was awake, although, now she couldn’t see. She was blinded by pin pricks of light that ferociously claimed the space around the notes.
By the time she reached the entrance/exit, her eyes burned with sight. And there he was. All the younger for the waiting.
and how I never particularly liked horses, (especially after that one time at Ariane’s but anyway), ironically.
don’t get me wrong
to look at and admire
their graceful stance
their peaceful ways
and to watch them gallop along movie set beaches and whatnot I would not likely tire
from any time soon.
But when I look
at what needs to be done
and the mess that’s in this room
I stop a while
that unicorns really are more awesome
how it lifts me from life’s gloom.
(*edit I also feel that the unicorn should do the prancing,
I’m so grateful
for the lovely gift
from such a gracious soul,
I told her that I named it,
“she who treads lightly and wisely but knows how to have a darn good time”
and makes me feel not so
(*NB. even though the literary slaughtering that occurred here may offend some viewers, please be assured no unicorns were harmed in the process. Well, maybe just their dignity… A big thank you to Kindra for the unicorn.)
And here’s a musical tribute that I believe matches the genuine nature of, well, something…