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Chill hung in the air and in her heart as she observed the frozen landscape.
Only fools and the desperate would be out in this mess.
Leaving her to wonder which one she was. Maybe she was both.
Dead bodies weren’t going to hide themselves, though, so out into the tundra she skied.
Chilled to her bones, she tried to finish her typing, listening to the percussive clatter of the keys
Only the chattering wasn’t just the keyboard, but her teeth beat a duet with her fingers
Leaving her to wonder if the furnace was ever going to kick in
Didn’t remember she had placed a hold on it so no heat came for a long time
Under the harsh bathroom light, he looked hideous.
Going on this date was such a bad idea.
Leaving her alone would be better than returning to their table, wouldn’t it?
Yet when they left the restaurant she held his hand, and he wondered why.
Putting her unadorned baggy white dress on
Leaving so much to the imagination that it hurt to even try to fantasize anything about her
And piling her hair up under her uninspiring hat
It gave the world the perfect vanilla picture she craved them to know
Nobody would expect the wildness contained therein until it was too late
Making food always made him feel both happy and sad.
Every morsel that left his kitchen was a love note to those who ordered it.
A loving response was an empty plate that came back, ready to be cleaned for a new missive.
Leaving food on the plate meant rejection and left him wondering what went wrong.
Seasoning was the key to all great cooking
And he wanted to be known as a Master Chef
Leaving the galley kitchen, he went on deck and breathed in the sea air
That’s when one of the junior officers made a snide remark about breakfast
Yelling obscenities back was probably not a good idea, he realized, as he washed all the dishes
Cold permeated the air as it dripped through the walls.
His teeth chattered comically, so he put on a third sweatshirt.
It couldn’t get more miserable. could it?
Looking at the water pipes overhead, yes, it could.
Leaving his basement, he contemplated the empty fireplace.
Yeah, maybe he didn’t need the couch anymore.
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Finding his emotions too cumbersome to deal with, he packed them away.
Eliminating his ability to cope with other people around him
Everything became harder until he decided to become a hermit
Leaving humanity behind allowed him to decompress and once again begin to …
Bashful with a dash of humility was his favorite drink
Leaving him sated every time he partook of that sweet nectar
Under the moonless sky, he would go out for a pint or two
Fortune smiled when he found a sweet young insecure thing looking for tall, pale, and handsome
Finding a dark spot to sip her vitality, he never saw the wooden stake till it was too late
Leaving for the last minute is totally my style
And I usually can make it work
Then there is the time you know it is due tomorrow
Except it was due last week. Oops!
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Never Short On Words 