Thanks to Sarah for kicking me in the pants and telling me that I need to get to writing again.

I'm on it.

I felt thrown off. I felt naked--and uncomfortably so. She wouldn't make eye contact with me as she busied herself around the small room, shoving clothes and tiny motel room toiletries into her bag. "Claire," I started to say. "Don't even," she said, lifting an accusatory finger at me. If looks could kill, I'd be found, probably weeks later, ( Read more... )

I sat watching, somewhat fascinated, somewhat revolted, at his third trimester bulge as he leaned over the now steaming engine of the car and clucked his tongue. He turned to me, as if to say something, and noticed that I was looking at him. He winked and my stomach lurched into my throat. Claire sat at the edge of the building with her arms ( Read more... )

Let me just start off by saying none of this is a lie. I know you'd be hard pressed to believe it, but it's true. You could close this, and walk away now and all I'd really want to get across is that I'm telling the truth. This is just the sort of story that has to be written. This isn't one of those, "I knew her." rants, it's different. I knew by ( Read more... )

How dare she look at me with that gaze of contempt? I mean, who did she think she was anyways? All these year's I'd invested in my mental ideal of what Claire was and she turned out to be, well, herself. She wouldn't get away with having her own identity, at least not one that I hadn't thought up for her ( Read more... )

All this inactivity is driving me crazy. I'm fading. I'm waning. I'm also somewhat hurt. If you don't get back to your writing soon, and I mean seriously, I'm leaving you for good.

Get serious.

To: All ( Read more... )

oh yeah.