A Story About You

A Story About You

Inspired by 'Welcome to Night Vale's 13th episode, here is a short piece of fiction.
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What is it to feel each dawn, and all that it yields?

Foreign tongue lapped against your neck in meandering patterns of hormonal expression through saliva. Brittle motions of joints snapping reverberations throughout your body's bony structure and softened meats.

Is there no end to this glimmering chaotic rushing of sensory return?

No. It is cyclical in its nature.

Your eyes turn to examine the body beside yours, the tongue that drew hazy images of passionate nothingness against your skin. There is warmth there, but more a hollowed pang, distant and abstract. More a fleeting reminder than a visceral, real time expression of it.

There is nothing there for you. No corridors meant for your explorations. No hidden chests or tomes for you to plunder or read. You've simply slipped into a door left carelessly ajar.

You are perfectly aware of this, no attempts to bury it will ever be deep enough.

She reaches to you, gently pulling your right hand over. She pulls and massages the fingers and the palm, commenting to herself in low tones how soft your skin is.

You can barely hear this, but the childlike mumble of her voice seems to leave an impression. What kind of impression you quietly struggle to discern. The mind is such a fickle thing after all.

“Do you love me?” she asks, not looking up from your hand, still kneading the apparently soft skin with an almost mechanical rhythm.

Her voice is as waif thin as her body.

The vulnerability of her voice makes her appear more fragile than ever before. Of course her body has always been like that, slight and flitting like a fairy child wandering from her mother, but somehow her question adds to the fragility of her image. Like a porcelain doll you could crush simply by applying too much pressure to your grip.

You could reach out and touch her at the cheek, just below her left eye, and trail along tracing her jawline to her chin, down her throat to her chest, and along the softly plump curvature of her right breast to the small, pink nub of her nipple.

Behind your finger the pathway it drew would be crackled and scarred, like earth dried and burned away.

Porcelain shattered.

This mark would not be physical. It would never be visible to others, possibly not even to her, but she would certainly feel its scar tissue lancing from her face to her chest.

You will always see it. You will always know how you burned a strange and aching wanderlust into this poor girl's flesh.

Cover Image Credit: Welcome To Night Vale

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To The Friends I Won't Talk To After High School

I sincerely hope, every great quality I saw in you, was imprinted on the world.
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Hey,

So, for the last four years I’ve seen you almost everyday. I’ve learned about your annoying little brother, your dogs and your crazy weekend stories. I’ve seen you rock the awful freshman year fashion, date, attend homecoming, study for AP tests, and get accepted into college.

Thank you for asking me about my day, filling me in on your boy drama and giving me the World History homework. Thank you for complimenting my outfits, laughing at me presenting in class and listening to me complain about my parents. Thank you for sending me your Quizlets and being excited for my accomplishments- every single one of them. I appreciate it all because I know that soon I won’t really see you again. And that makes me sad. I’ll no longer see your face every Monday morning, wave hello to you in the hallways or eat lunch with you ever again. We won't live in the same city and sooner or later you might even forget my name.

We didn’t hang out after school but none the less you impacted me in a huge way. You supported my passions, stood up for me and made me laugh. You gave me advice on life the way you saw it and you didn’t have to but you did. I think maybe in just the smallest way, you influenced me. You made me believe that there’s lots of good people in this world that are nice just because they can be. You were real with me and that's all I can really ask for. We were never in the same friend group or got together on the weekends but you were still a good friend to me. You saw me grow up before your eyes and watched me walk into class late with Starbucks every day. I think people like you don’t get enough credit because I might not talk to you after high school but you are still so important to me. So thanks.

With that said, I truly hope that our paths cross one day in the future. You can tell me about how your brothers doing or how you regret the college you picked. Or maybe one day I’ll see you in the grocery store with a ring on your finger and I’ll be so happy you finally got what you deserved so many guys ago.

And if we ever do cross paths, I sincerely hope you became everything you wanted to be. I hope you traveled to Italy, got your dream job and found the love of your life. I hope you have beautiful children and a fluffy dog named Charlie. I hope you found success in love before wealth and I hope you depended on yourself for happiness before anything else. I hope you visited your mom in college and I hope you hugged your little sister every chance you got. She’s in high school now and you always tell her how that was the time of your life. I sincerely hope, every great quality I saw in you, was imprinted on the world.

And hey, maybe I’ll see you at the reunion and maybe just maybe you’ll remember my face. If so, I’d like to catch up, coffee?

Sincerely,

Me

Cover Image Credit: High school Musical

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Poetry On The Odyssey: It's a Girl

An ode to the little girl raised to be insecure.

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They raise little girls to be insecure

Little girls grow to be big girls

People always ask big girls why they're so insecure

Big girls aren't quite sure

Day after day the big girl can't keep up

She's exhausted

Her soul feels worn

The big girl learns to grow hard

In a way, she's a bit stronger

People call her a bitch

Bitch

What is that?

How can she let that affect her

It's simply the only way to be her

She mourns that little girl

Hoping that one day

She'll be strong


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