prompt
-
He uses Binoculars because he is afraid to touch her. He’s afraid to talk to her, to face her head on. He’s scared because he fears she will laugh at him, reject him, avoid him. He wants to talk to her, but the fear swallows him up whole. He finds that he likes watching her…
-
The list in her hands was old. The page crumpled up multiple times, as if shoved into a pocket or a fist several times. The names were scribbled in a quick scrawl, the red X’s across them a sign of something. “What is this?” She asked, gazing up from the list at the man in…
-
I thought I got away clean. No scars, No bruises, No pain, From the damage I caused. Too bad I was my own witness. Now all I feel is you.
-
Things used to be easier when letters were sent physically. Sure, it would take longer, and there might be the off chance it wasn’t delivered. But at the same time, you wouldn’t know if they had left your message unread. Somehow, the little red notification under every message I send is more painful the longer…
-
The photograph is old and faded, but she can see that they love each other. The photograph from years ago, and she doubts her parents would even recognize themselves after all the years. Time is a bitch.