31_days | the handmaid's tale | rendezvous
18 september | holding your poly-morphing opinion
There were many nights when she had second thoughts. So many things could go wrong; they were putting both of their lives at stake.
And yet, every single night she found herself sneaking out of her room, down the hallway, stepping slowly down the back stairs - skipping the second to last because it creaked - across the lawn, darting quickly between passes of the light, and finally -
And every single night he's waiting for her. He opens the door and lets her pass.
He turns off the light and leads her to his bed, drawing her close. He smells like cigarettes.
She finds that in the dark, second thoughts mean nothing.
There were many nights when she had second thoughts. So many things could go wrong; they were putting both of their lives at stake.
And yet, every single night she found herself sneaking out of her room, down the hallway, stepping slowly down the back stairs - skipping the second to last because it creaked - across the lawn, darting quickly between passes of the light, and finally -
And every single night he's waiting for her. He opens the door and lets her pass.
He turns off the light and leads her to his bed, drawing her close. He smells like cigarettes.
She finds that in the dark, second thoughts mean nothing.