Debris
She looked down at her arms, riddled like the truth with collapsed veins. "Hey! Are you going to help me clean up or are you going to give me the cash--- cause either way I need a fix from this situation", she paused, then sighed heavily, absentmindedly scratching her collarbone. "Look, I'm... I'm sorry, ok? But I just can't do this alone and I've got no one else." She wiped her forearm across her nose. She lowered her head, her eyes focused intently on her filthy sneakers.
He could focus on nothing, but her. She was still captivating and he longed to touch her. Trace her fine jaw line with his finger tips or shake her mercilessly for doing this to him, to her, to them. She just looked so fragile though, like a baby sparrow with such small and brittle bones. She had always been small, even when they first met. She had elbows that could compete with clothes hangers, shoulder blades like garden spades, and those cheek bones that made her eyes look hollow long before they were. He just wanted to take her home and curl her up in a pile of blankets. He wanted to bring his baby sparrow back to the nest, but the last time he succumbed to that whim the next morning he had the pleasure of calling every pawn shop in the city to track down his electronics.
The spring breeze flirted with the leaves in the trees, exposing the private gesture of the windows winking at the sun. This same sun filtered through the trees to speckle the sidewalk and freckle her face with sunshine whenever she happened to turn her face upward. They could have almost been a young couple intoxicated by all the spring in the air, except for the distance between them, that anyone could sense was greater than the sidewalk tile that separated them. It had taken him months to conjure up the emotional Hercules might to say this to her, "You know I love you, but you also know where the clinic is", he said has he nodded his head few blocks towards their south, "And I'll continue to love you no matter your choice, but I'll only know if you love me too, if you get yourself straight."
And there he left her among the winking windows and sun freckles. She willed herself to not to call out for him to stop. Everything she felt imploded. The emotional debris compacted into a tight; hard knot in her stomach, but she knew he had told her what he had come to say. As she turned her be-raggled sneakers southwards, her shoelace tips skittering across the pavement, she wondered if she had the strength to make the right choice. I sure hope so she thought as her feet led her away from the setting sun and stretching shadows.
I think I'm going to apply for this scholarship. You have to write two short stories and that's roughly my first one. A story of a heroin addict and the man that loves her. I just wrote it tonight, I couldn't get that line "riddled like the truth" out of my head all day. I need to work on it some more, but I think its a good start. Gimmie feedback.
He could focus on nothing, but her. She was still captivating and he longed to touch her. Trace her fine jaw line with his finger tips or shake her mercilessly for doing this to him, to her, to them. She just looked so fragile though, like a baby sparrow with such small and brittle bones. She had always been small, even when they first met. She had elbows that could compete with clothes hangers, shoulder blades like garden spades, and those cheek bones that made her eyes look hollow long before they were. He just wanted to take her home and curl her up in a pile of blankets. He wanted to bring his baby sparrow back to the nest, but the last time he succumbed to that whim the next morning he had the pleasure of calling every pawn shop in the city to track down his electronics.
The spring breeze flirted with the leaves in the trees, exposing the private gesture of the windows winking at the sun. This same sun filtered through the trees to speckle the sidewalk and freckle her face with sunshine whenever she happened to turn her face upward. They could have almost been a young couple intoxicated by all the spring in the air, except for the distance between them, that anyone could sense was greater than the sidewalk tile that separated them. It had taken him months to conjure up the emotional Hercules might to say this to her, "You know I love you, but you also know where the clinic is", he said has he nodded his head few blocks towards their south, "And I'll continue to love you no matter your choice, but I'll only know if you love me too, if you get yourself straight."
And there he left her among the winking windows and sun freckles. She willed herself to not to call out for him to stop. Everything she felt imploded. The emotional debris compacted into a tight; hard knot in her stomach, but she knew he had told her what he had come to say. As she turned her be-raggled sneakers southwards, her shoelace tips skittering across the pavement, she wondered if she had the strength to make the right choice. I sure hope so she thought as her feet led her away from the setting sun and stretching shadows.
I think I'm going to apply for this scholarship. You have to write two short stories and that's roughly my first one. A story of a heroin addict and the man that loves her. I just wrote it tonight, I couldn't get that line "riddled like the truth" out of my head all day. I need to work on it some more, but I think its a good start. Gimmie feedback.