(no subject)
She was wearing one of Ellen's skirts, a slender black number that reached halfway down her calves. There was a cigarette burn right near the bottom, but Kaye doubted anyone would notice, or care. She felt like a grown up, in the stuffy clothing, staring at the door to the funeral parlor. In a moment she would have to go in and join them. She didn't want to feel like a grown up, she wanted to cry and refuse to go, to admit she wasn't brave at all.
Instead she just stands and stares. In a minute she will have to go in.
A lone leaf flutters to the ground across the street - a single tree standing in the concrete jungle. Kaye watches it fall, turning and twisting in it's brilliant redness. Her nails clench inwards leaving matching red marks. She'll have to go in.
Instead she just stands and stares. In a minute she will have to go in.
A lone leaf flutters to the ground across the street - a single tree standing in the concrete jungle. Kaye watches it fall, turning and twisting in it's brilliant redness. Her nails clench inwards leaving matching red marks. She'll have to go in.