It's a lot like falling
But there's trust in there, too
And plenty of calling,
Shouting out to you
I wonder if you're listening
On the other end of the line
But we remark on dewdrops glistening
And I know we'll be just fine
We're synchronized and stuck like glue
I cross my heart, I will be true
I trust you loads, and this you know,
So I'll be by the lamp if you care to show
I step out of the room, hoping that his eyes follow me, but I can feel that they don't. I shut myself into the bathroom, and pace back and forth quietly. I grip my head, and feel the butterflies rustle in my stomach.
Why is it so hard? We were talking this morning on the phone, why am I having such a hard time finding words?
I sigh, and then relieve myself. Walking out of the bathroom, I walk back into the room, averting my eyes to the table.
Book Two
The Winter Carnival
Chapter 1
THE WINTER CARNIVAL
“Oh, I’m just so excited about the winter carnival next month! I can’t wait!” Six year old, Betty Holt said, grinning.
“It’ll be here before long, honey,” her eleven year old sister, Pam said, tussling her hair.
Joe, who was twelve, finished tying his tennis shoes on. “Sure will,” he said, smiling. “You two ready?”
“Yes. Where’s Ronnie?” Pam asked.
“Oh, he can’t go. He’s got a stomach ache.”
“Oh. Poor Ronnie,” Betty said.
Have I ever posted fiction on here? I don't remember...Whelp, here's a little bitty short story! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Crimson Lips drawing the determined green eyes, stopping them in their tracks. Jerking them up from the pavement, interrupting their constant chant of "Keep walking. Don't remember. Keep Walking. "
*waves dramatically* HI!! haha, this time last year I couldn't stop wondering "What am I gonna do after I graduate?"..Now i'm astounded that I used to have free time. I'm taking creative writing classes online, and the last one took was mostly ...erm, essay? yeah, we'll go with that one..The last class I took was Essay/personal exploration type writing, so I didn't have much time to write poetry or fiction. But, guess who has a 2 week break :)!
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Empty Girl,
Wrapped in a mirror
All Icy blue
Part 16
Morning dawned cool and fresh, just the opposite of my pent-up and feverish thoughts. I lay in my cot a few moments after waking because I knew I wouldn’t be able to look Bart in the eye without it all coming out.
When I did get up, though, I found I had a respite. Bart and some of the others were making sweeps outside the camp, checking and setting a few traps to give us fresh meat supply.
Craigin was already up and Gern’s bedroll was rumpled and body-less.
He gave her not a crown
He gave her not a diamond ring
but gave the shine of his eyes and
a broken moonbeam
They’d say until her ears ran dull
that the sky’s limit was only
as high as towers could reach
and stained glass windows were nothing holy
And everything they understood
they couldn’t understand
too empty to know that
beauty’s too free to lie captive
in your hand.
I wrote this last night with a great sense of urgency. I don't know when He will rapture His church, but His bride has to be ready.
I know this poem is a little broken and the rhythm is poor, but it was almost like God was guiding my pen.
***
Bride, bride, get ready
For the Groom comes as a thief in the night
Newsflash and journalists, all reporting the same thing:
“Millions have just disappeared—in the blink of an eye.”
Go back to the days of old,
Noah tried to tell them, he did
is
"I don't want to go." - the Tenth Doctor
~~~~~~~
I miss people already. Tomorrow morning is the last time I will see some of my closest friends for a long time. I haven't cried. Not in my plans. I don't think I'd stop.
But they're all going to be here, and I won't be.
Hillary.
Max.
Summer.
Rachel.
Debbi.
Patrick.
Rochelle.
Marti.
Nathan.
My family.
My list is too long. I have so many roots. And I don't want to be transplanted. Please, I want to stay.