Anticipation
She stares straight ahead at the screen, her fingers tipping across plastic buttons like a whack-a-mole game in reverse. Her eyes briefly close and peel back open against the grain of parched contact lenses as she lets a long rush of air escape her nostrils. Why do I torture myself? she thinks to herself as she skims through the tainted words again through her mind. For days she had pondered their validity and as unlogical as they did seem, she is all too familiar with the concept of the slight possibility.
It seemed that the past few months were ruled by the law of Murphy, looming over her with a flamethrower of pain, a chainsaw of death, and a AK-47 of anxiety (he was of the incredibly versatile sort). After a five month emotional massacre it seemed that the limey bastard finally had some mercy in her...All until about two weeks ago, that is.
She draws her knee up to perch a foot on the faux leather cushion of her chair, none this made sense. She was happy, he was happy, what the hell happened? But she waits, oh yes, she had been waiting impatiently with the anticipation of an axe slicing through the air towards her neck, dreading it and wishing for it as quickly as possible. Fear had drained her, doubt had beaten her, and silence had burned her--all left for her to soothe the scars with frightened tears.
The clock strikes midnight and she leans her chin upon her knee with a sorrowful smile.
"Two more days..."She says in the exhumation of an all too familiar sigh, "Two more days."
It seemed that the past few months were ruled by the law of Murphy, looming over her with a flamethrower of pain, a chainsaw of death, and a AK-47 of anxiety (he was of the incredibly versatile sort). After a five month emotional massacre it seemed that the limey bastard finally had some mercy in her...All until about two weeks ago, that is.
She draws her knee up to perch a foot on the faux leather cushion of her chair, none this made sense. She was happy, he was happy, what the hell happened? But she waits, oh yes, she had been waiting impatiently with the anticipation of an axe slicing through the air towards her neck, dreading it and wishing for it as quickly as possible. Fear had drained her, doubt had beaten her, and silence had burned her--all left for her to soothe the scars with frightened tears.
The clock strikes midnight and she leans her chin upon her knee with a sorrowful smile.
"Two more days..."She says in the exhumation of an all too familiar sigh, "Two more days."