Thursday, 25 March 2010
Oneday, they came to a hidden room, packed full of the words they used to exchange. Most were old, softened, worn in all the familiar, comfortable places. And the soft light of a lifetime shared lingered, warming even the deepest shadows.
"How did these get here?" he wondered.
"It doesn't matter," she replied. "We won't need them where we're going."
Sunday, 14 March 2010
Monday, 8 March 2010
sometimes, there are people who leave your life to carry on down the roads they must take. but still, they stay with you, in that special aortic crevice carved out just for them. but othertimes, there are those who stay with you while they leave. detaching. slowlysilently. one string. one notch at a time. taking one step forward but two steps back. going before you can say gone. and leaving in seeming flash, when there's no longer a safety-line you could grip to help you stop the fall.
Wednesday, 3 March 2010
She fiddles with the bowl of sugar cubes in front of her, thinking
'If happiness could be cubed and packaged into bite size bits like these, life would be a better place.'
He pushes the sugar bowl away, taking a sip from his steaming cup of double espresso, thinking 'Some things are just better dark and bitter.'
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.