12 13 14 15 16 17
Today was her birthday.
She stared at the calendar, biting her lip tentatively.
Would he come home?
She shook her head furiously.
NONONONONONONONONONONONONO.
She had reminded herself countless times to forget about him.
But she still made chicken rice every single night
(sometimes unconsciously).
The whole world was slowly spinning.
She staggered to her chair, and sat there, head in her hands.
When she finally felt fine, she lifted her head, and peered through the curtain of dark locks in the direction of the kitchen window.
It was raining.
She ran to her room, put on her red dress (theonehehadlikedsomuch), and stepped out onto the street.
Alone, in the darkness (save a stray street lamp), she raised her head, arms wide open.
Her red lips parted, tasting the sweet rain.
And let her worries wash away.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
oooh!
i like the way you used 15 for the post and the birthdate!
Hey cool! I didn't realize that you used fifteen for the post and for her birthday until I saw mayann's comment! Mmm.
I love the images of her, in that stark red dress (in a world of black white monotone), red rosebud lips, the only colour on her pale face, parting to taste the cold cold rain.
Post a Comment