The Price
#72: Of Shards, Of Silence, Of Dreams
That was the sound of his heart breaking. The silence - his silence tore her up inside even more. She had everything in her hands yet she could do nothing. Say nothing. Offer nothing.
He was left with nothing save for the sky that the ceiling concealed. He wished it concealed even more... like the stars that she was after now. Or the stars that glistened at the corners of his eyes as he told himself not to cry.
posted by VivaGlam! at 11:16 PM
2 Comments:
Sometimes I wonder if what you write is fictional or real. Sometimes it's hard to read you.
The time on the post said 11:16 pm. You were harassed all afternoon til evening, had a flight to catch in the morning, but still can't get yourself to sleep early. You must be thinking hard about a lot of things...breathe, my dear, breathe...
9:30 AM
Maybe we all need to write both. And maybe only one-dimensional characters are easy to read. =)
I must be thinking hard... or I may just be a night owl. =D
7:50 PM
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