Silent, trembling fingers full of expectant nerve endings reaching across the distance.
Cuticles sacrificed to neuroses of unsatisfied cravings confided to the night.
The seams of propriety straining under the pressure of suppressed tenderness.
Eyes twinkling with secrets bursting forth to illuminate the dark divide.
Gently being led by the strings ( Read more... )

 She walks to work in the morning skipping over ice-crusted puddles with a stylish flair in the fashionable tall white boots that she bought in Prague last year. She stands out of the drab black- and grey-clad crowd with her red coat and her huge dark eyes quizzically trained on the horizon. A beautiful girl striding confidently: back erect, head ( Read more... )

 And so, every day becomes a struggle to carry on, a struggle to breathe without the sharp inhale prickling her lips with his stubble, to get through her workday without the sound of the trams outside her window swallowing her up in the smoke of the train station, to leave her house without the sound of his footsteps stalking her behind every ( Read more... )

 Sitting in her airplane seat Margarita turns the pages of her new literary find at equal intervals, looking entranced and occasionally puzzled, and only a very careful observer can discern the truth tucked between the pages of her book. She practices a smile in the airplane bathroom filled with turbulence and the bits of her disintegrated dreams ( Read more... )

 When she finally regains the feeling in her legs the ground seems to be slipping away from under her feet a little less with each step. By the time Margarita reaches the doors of the station she has nearly regained her balance and her presence of mind. The tears are wiped, and only her swollen lids hold the traces of her recent anguish, lulling ( Read more... )

 Rooted in her place she’s watching him leave, dissolve into the bustling crowds carrying suitcases and anticipations. She is standing stock still on the platform contemplating the waving passengers as the train jeers at her with contempt. She’s unmoving, not a muscle flinches on her glacial face. She is made of rock: solid and firm and cold; the ( Read more... )

 I take care of her like it's my job. I run to her at every beck and call. Kind of like now: all she has to do is say the magic words, "I need you", and I'm there. I swoop in like her guardian angel: always by her side, but always a step behind. Watching over her, but never just watching her sleep with her head on my chest. Comforting her when ( Read more... )

 I stand in front of the mirror and stare. I do this often. I scan my face and my body for signs of maturity that is bound to come some day, but somehow with me, unlike all my classmates, it is taking its time. While other girls are filling out their semi sheer blouses with their newly grown breasts, gently placing their prized possessions back ( Read more... )

 "Do you know that there once was a time when they could burn you at the stake or drown you for being a witch?" he said.  And sure enough, "bewitched" was the only way he could describe how he felt.  He turned towards her and examined her profile backlit by the setting sun.  Eyes trained on the rooftops that glowed in the golden light of the ( Read more... )

As we sat having dinner I couldn't help but let my hand linger near hers on the table, if not to touch it, then at least to feel its warmth, which would travel from my fingertips up my arm and into my chest: filling it, spreading in waves, choking me.  As I dug into my meal I watched her deal with hers.  She put each piece of food into her mouth ( Read more... )