[to the f u t u r e]

It still comes as a surprise, how much time we share. Oh, sorry, not you we. We dear-my-friend and I, and don’t you two know each other? His self-described nomadic lifestyle both gave you a relationship and strained it. But I started out about something else you know—time. Specifically the time he makes to wait to talk to be kind. All of it is good and right down to my bones. Even, would you believe, the time he takes to leave me.

Thanks for reading! I'd love a comment =)!
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Revealed

Tears from heaven
Run across skin
Mingle with tears

The noise of the drops is like a drum beat
The rhythm slowly sings a song of defeat

Blackness hides me
I become nothing
Just another drop

The best of my life is around me in this rain
The worst is sung softly in its rhythm of pain

Searching for “end”
Wishing for “purpose”
Cliché’ desires abound

A hand slipped into the back pocket of my jeans
An unquenched, soft, requited yearning
Lips that dart from my nose to cheek
That’s how I imagine it’ll be

Late night walks taken without fear
Happiness because he’s near
The most satisfying joyful tears
Nights too long, cliffs none too sheer

A fearless fumble without blush
A chest as soft as a pillow plush
Hearts skipping with every single touch
A giggle as we whisper shush

*A/N* Just realized that I hadn't posted since July!!! So, I wrote this as a spur-of-the moment thing. I hope it's good!!!
P.S. I loooovvvveee critiques <3

It’s a thankless job.

The coffee pot usually wakes her every morning like clockwork—four-thirty a.m. Some days she’d like to sleep in until five but it’s a luxury that comes with a price. Because if she did get in that extra half-hour, she’d miss saying goodbye to her husband, and have to hurry over the paper and breakfast. So she would rather not.

Notes:

   This has been very much revised compared to my first draft. If you haven't read my first draft, don't; at least not until you've read this one. I am leaving it on apricotpie only for history's sake.

   Thank you Anna for your comment, it has helped me improve this story a great deal. I have hopefully gotten rid of my major problems and added a few characters. (Well, I had them planned before, they just didn't appear until a latter chapter)

Pale ochre light leaked out from half shut shades, lazily reflecting off the blackened brick walls of the ally to cast eerie, ever shifting patterns across the network of broken stones. She walked, or attempted to, as her legs begged to run, or at least jog through the horrid place to get into the suns fading light. Yet as frightened and quick as her little heart beat in her chest, she forcibly kept her pace to a quick step. This was not the first time walking through the scant, dirt encrusted area of town.

Dearest Aunt Eliza and Adrimond,
I know you will be happy and very surprised to hear from me, when I have been surely thought lost all these long long years. I find it is very difficult to describe in such a short space what has befallen me. But the postal service declares that letters of more than one sheet must be paid for with a whole dollar, and I (and Mother and Father) have no money. So I write small, as you see.

When I sit in quiet and in peace -- though perhaps not peace in my own heart -- I am strongly aware of the fact that pride is my worst sin. Pride in that I think I can do my tasks well on my own; pride in that I do not admit my mistakes; pride in that I hesitate to ask questions at the risk of looking like a fool; pride in my dealings with others, where I make assumptions about their lifestyles, and become satisfied with myself for not being like them. C.S. Lewis said that "a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute".

My journey to the mountain,
began, not long ago.
it began in a small village,
where life went to and fro.

I didn’t know what was in store,
while I laughed with friends.
It’s hard to recall my life before,
change came ‘round the bend.

One night, before the snow,
I woke from a strange dream.
I heard a voice inside my head,
or that’s the way it seemed.

What I heard, it changed my life
and sent shivers through my skin.
I was told I would change something,
if I could climb the tall mountain.