| and I looked on, with adoring eyesI arrived, half expecting not to be welcome. Loud music, trendy urbanites.
I was shooed inside and looked around.
Perhaps they've already left. It's rather late. I might as well have a walk about and head back home.
I searched the crowd. All unfamiliar faces.
Then, one beloved silhouette. Dashingly handsome profile. Princely features and a mousy awkwardness--a combination that could call to muster a cult following.
My eyes crinkled into a smile, mouth remaining as it were. Probably a pained looking expression from the outside, the inside a bittersweet note playing as I took in this image.
He moved, it was lyrical.
He spoke, and it seemed forced. Not nearly reflective of what was inside of that frame, and probably never would be.
Here he was. My muse. The bright burning ember in the dark of night, surface ever shifting with every breath of air.
My pitiable attempts ruefully unable to bring any sort of justice.
And we embraced.
And I could feel the blood in my fingertips reach out for him, through the tips of my capillaries, almost bursting as it made its return into my heart.
|
| |
| The greatest thing to have at a job fair
 |
| |
| word of the dayrebarbative:
serving or tending to repel; "he became rebarbative and prickly and spiteful"; "I find his obsequiousness repellent"
obsequious:
- bootlicking: attempting to win favor from influential people by flattery
- attentive in an ingratiating or servile manner; "obsequious shop assistants"
|
| |
| Well my loves, I got a new phone number, same phone.
I just made extremely salty cream of wheat and I wish I didn't eat it.
So the other day I showered as soon as I got home. I had the most awful b.o. I'd been avoiding Mathew like the plague because I thought he smelled, but now I'm wondering if maybe it was me. Haha.
My car is in the shop, will probably be there for weeks. They're only going to fix the front end damage and not the dent in the back.
My back is killing me, but I think it's from sleeping funny. Hopefully. I don't to have warped it.
But the good thing is I'm alive and well.
Love ya,
Annie
|
| |
