the curtain falls
for all_unwritten.
this is not our stage, 267.
this is not our stage, she thought. funny how life works. four years and not one fight - allergic to melodrama, she was. she had thought maría as well.
but no, it seemed - four years late. she was tugging at her hair, screaming her dried throat out, ripped apart like a true and hearfelt drama queen. a dream come true (if only), chloe mocked, all of a sudden furious.
what for? it echoed around them, crashing against the world. what in the world for?
it had been quite the regular morning, quite the regular sunny afternoon. but evening and grocery shopping had come dark stormy. this isn't working, she said. out of the blue, they say, right?
this isn't working.
her life. her part-time job. her dream, crushed and forgotten. her unusual relationship, good to replace everything they never had.
i need more.
more meant something else. literally - something else but you, you bitch. someone else - someone strong who can bounce her off the walls and rocket her into the moon. maybe this thing they had had never been right, never a good idea, never appropriate for who they were. they got caught up in their parts, though. it happens. they have been playing for a while - all was in good fun, she mentally excused herself (now).
cold dry wind seep through the half-open window. their life blew with it like it had come. out of nothing in the middle of a solitary dusty evening and too much gin and coca-cola.
as every night, the play went on until the curtain dropped.
-
this is not our stage, 267.
this is not our stage, she thought. funny how life works. four years and not one fight - allergic to melodrama, she was. she had thought maría as well.
but no, it seemed - four years late. she was tugging at her hair, screaming her dried throat out, ripped apart like a true and hearfelt drama queen. a dream come true (if only), chloe mocked, all of a sudden furious.
what for? it echoed around them, crashing against the world. what in the world for?
it had been quite the regular morning, quite the regular sunny afternoon. but evening and grocery shopping had come dark stormy. this isn't working, she said. out of the blue, they say, right?
this isn't working.
her life. her part-time job. her dream, crushed and forgotten. her unusual relationship, good to replace everything they never had.
i need more.
more meant something else. literally - something else but you, you bitch. someone else - someone strong who can bounce her off the walls and rocket her into the moon. maybe this thing they had had never been right, never a good idea, never appropriate for who they were. they got caught up in their parts, though. it happens. they have been playing for a while - all was in good fun, she mentally excused herself (now).
cold dry wind seep through the half-open window. their life blew with it like it had come. out of nothing in the middle of a solitary dusty evening and too much gin and coca-cola.
as every night, the play went on until the curtain dropped.
-