If only she could go up to that idealist, so much like her and yet so different, and scream in her face:
Category: Full Circle
He couldn’t quite see the colour in Fletcher’s eyes, but he could see the path they took from his hands and then back up to his face. Quite without meaning to, he touched the side of Fletcher’s jaw, intrigued by the stubble there. And then, also without meaning to, he leaned forward and brushed his lips there, until he found the spot he was looking for.
Blessings in Disguise
hose huge eyes narrowed, and he realized they looked particularly big because of the goop applied so expertly to them that it naturally enhanced her eyelashes. She caught her lip, the same candy-pink as her high heels, between her bottom teeth, and regarded him with a look so unlike her usual haughty poutiness, that he suspected she’d entered a new phase in her emotional development – self-actualization.
It’s Not Your Story To Tell
It was always predictable, the death of hope. To hope was to fall, after all. To love was to kill, and to trust was to die. It started in the eyes, when the attempt to be brave or laugh it off or remain stoic gave way to the tiniest crack of doubt. And then, that glass box of hope would bust wide open, unable to contain the mortal terror that burst forth. Sometimes, when the torrent had slowed to a trickle, there would be acceptance.
When it All Comes Out
“If that’s what God wants me to do, then I’m definitely not going. If God really doesn’t let anyone be lost, then that means that Sean and my grandfather and my father are up there. And I really can’t stomach that, because they deserve to rot in hell more than anyone else. “
She sank her fingers deeper, closing her eyes, imagining the feel of his thick, black hair, his impossibly warm arms. She pressed her ear to the ground near the head of the grave, where she thought his heart might be. She listened, and she waited, but just like in the garden when he’d had that white guitar, she heard nothing. It was just one of a million quiet summer days.
Not a Casserole in Sight
She glared at him, fighting the tears that spilled into her eyes. He looked just like his father. That’s what was different. He looked so much like Ben now that it cut her to the center of her being.
“If you loved him, then don’t do this to him. Don’t throw away the four people he loved more than anything in the world.”
Cooler Than Me
His introspective mood popped on a sudden, sharp spike of mischief. It was Dre’s turn to take in Fletcher with his eyes. “I don’t think you can handle my kind of fun, Choirboy.”
Good Morning, Beautiful
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” With help, the man was able to pry his fingers from her grasp. Frantically, she tried to jerk her arms, but they were bound. She tried to kick one of the doctors, but her legs wouldn’t move. Her head was killing her, and she felt like she’d been rolled over by a truck.
When I Get Where I’m Going
The Voice. The one she couldn’t seem to get rid of, no matter how far she tried to run, or where she tried to hide. She would have to try harder, later, but for now, she was just glad not to be alone. Safe in his arms. A temporary truce.
The Road Ahead
“It’s not a game to me, little one. It’s a very delicate balance. Nothing is unexpected to me, and I know exactly what I’m doing. I know what needs to happen for my plan to work out. But I’m still a dreamer, Lanie. I know every possible outcome and future that could have existed, and I dream of what I would do for my children if they listened to me sooner.” He sighed a deep sigh, and a contrastingly warm breeze rustled the trees around them, and she felt it even through the icy gale. “But, even that dream of Ben growing old with you wouldn’t lead to the best possible future. Of course, I know what you would do, as much as I wished you wouldn’t. I tried to tell you that. I knew the ripple effects would bring about my exact will.”