so now that I have followers (!) I can guess that they might read this. :) I just spent today writing, and that was awesome. I was wondering if these paragraphs was confusing, though. This is about a girl who tells her boyfriend that she can fly.
But all you do was stare at me weird and roll your eyes like I'm joking. You lean back in your chair and smile at me like I'm 5 years old and I want to show you my dog. "Well, let's see it."
So I ran. In that moment, every awful thing that he ever did comes rushing into my mind. Anger runs through my bare skin like a gust of wind. I can feel my head being forced up, a wave of burning hot air propelling it. I concentrate on what an awful asshole he was, until the air is so strong it sears my flesh. I can see the raw, bloody skin surfacing, until I am completely reborn, in new flesh. Somehow though, it doesn't hurt. Like her anger was some sort of protective balm, a shield against pain.
okay, so if I told you that it was her anger that was making her fly, would that be news to you? (it's bad if it is)
Friday, June 24, 2011
*which is all totally ok. Make fun of me, tell me you don't like my writing, tell me how you think I should change it. That's all fine, just don't be intolerant about weird people (i.e. me) on my blog. :)