(no subject)
Title: “Abandon”
Format: Vignette
Word Count: 200
Notes: For Andie, who brings out the artsy in me. Beware of pseudo-adverbs and other curiosities.
She would never know what possessed her. She would never know what restless spirit, long-silenced by inhibition, compelled her to put on the skirt that day-a skirt so light, so elegant, and so utterly far removed that her fingers trembled as she smoothed them over the sweeping fabric.
Safely confined within the comforts of home, where sunlight streamed through the window and bathed her form in
muted gold, she quietly marveled at her ability to command its every movement. One swish of her hip, and the skirt
followed with a compliant rustle.
A cloud passed overhead; the sun winked.
Time stilled, seized, and
slowly-fixedly-
bit-by-bittedly
she wound
herself
up.
Sweet release! like a spring uncoiled she spins and circles and succumbs to a dizzying whirl where breath is lost and life is found and all thoughts unravel in a torrid tangle around her feet as the sun spills into her hair and the room catches fire and the skirt fans out, out and away-
It came fleetingly, left a smear in moment and memory. Under the weighted stares of old family portraits, reality
settled with the dust. She sighed, shook the sun from her hair
and decided to wear jeans.
Format: Vignette
Word Count: 200
Notes: For Andie, who brings out the artsy in me. Beware of pseudo-adverbs and other curiosities.
She would never know what possessed her. She would never know what restless spirit, long-silenced by inhibition, compelled her to put on the skirt that day-a skirt so light, so elegant, and so utterly far removed that her fingers trembled as she smoothed them over the sweeping fabric.
Safely confined within the comforts of home, where sunlight streamed through the window and bathed her form in
muted gold, she quietly marveled at her ability to command its every movement. One swish of her hip, and the skirt
followed with a compliant rustle.
A cloud passed overhead; the sun winked.
Time stilled, seized, and
slowly-fixedly-
bit-by-bittedly
she wound
herself
up.
Sweet release! like a spring uncoiled she spins and circles and succumbs to a dizzying whirl where breath is lost and life is found and all thoughts unravel in a torrid tangle around her feet as the sun spills into her hair and the room catches fire and the skirt fans out, out and away-
It came fleetingly, left a smear in moment and memory. Under the weighted stares of old family portraits, reality
settled with the dust. She sighed, shook the sun from her hair
and decided to wear jeans.