• WearyWater commented on the post, pan 4 months, 1 week ago

    He scorched the underside of her good, cast-iron pans much in the same way he scorched her heart. Both were too good for the likes of him, yet endured the abuse.

    Years later, she found, both would be doing as strong as ever without him around to try to misuse them again.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, pan 4 months, 1 week ago

    He scorched the underside of her good, cast-iron pans much in the same way he scorcher her heart. Both were too good for the likes of him, yet endured the abuse.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, breakout 9 months, 2 weeks ago

    It would be breakout artist of the year, she guessed. That would be the title won by the end of the night. She could feel it in her bones. After all, she had given so much to her music—endless hours, endless amounts of money, endless auditions. More than so much.
    Everything.
    So when the name was called, her disappointment was catastrophic.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, thieves 11 months, 3 weeks ago

    Her tongue twisted in her mouth. If anything, what came before was just a distraction. What mattered was now. This was real. Thieving time wound slowly around her as she began to take her first few steps.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, bus 1 year, 4 months ago

    The bus lurches to the right, gravel spitting from under its tires. She had been a fool for thinking this would be easy, a clean break. She looked out toward the darkened horizon as the greyhound lurched again. Even the weather seemed to be working against her.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, turn 1 year, 6 months ago

    The shift between enemy and acquaintance is sudden, and most definitely unexpected. It turns one summer evening, shaped between the little space allowed between two grappling bodies when the sexual tension finally, finally snaps. He’s there, of course, the subject of your violent fantasies–yet you can’t stop him when his lips collide with yours…[Read more]

  • WearyWater commented on the post, turn 1 year, 6 months ago

    She turns to me, relentless, eyes dark in the moonlight. There’s something about her, something I can’t quite place, that makes my skin crawl and my stature shrink and my mouth taste inexplicably of bile. I don’t think I know her, not anymore. I wonder if I ever even knew her in the first place. Her lips are sharp and curled in amusement as she…[Read more]

  • WearyWater commented on the post, delivery 1 year, 7 months ago

    The delivery was long—longer than she’d like to remember, now that everything was said and done. But it did create a sense of accomplishment as she held her daughter, looking at her wrinkled pink face. Like all that hard work had finally amounted to something.

    Something wonderful.

  • There was a weight in her chest, like lead, maybe, or stone. She wasn’t good with poetic comparisons, to be honest. Nonetheless, this weight dragged her down, crushing the air from her lungs. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Was this what it felt like to be devastated?

  • WearyWater commented on the post, olive 2 years, 9 months ago

    Her complexion was unfashionably dark for a woman of the region–(olive, he’d heard it called before, whispered from behind housewives’ hands, accompanied with sounds of distain.) Her skin was a rich, earthy color that drew his eye, splattered in freckles from her time tending her family’s vineyard under the summer sun. While others saw it as an…[Read more]

  • WearyWater commented on the post, miss 2 years, 9 months ago

    It wasn’t like him to miss his morning train. He was punctual, orderly. (Or anal-retentive, as his colleagues often whispered behind his back.) His life was in perfect order, thank you very much, and this fluke had now disrupted his entire day.
    He sighed, gripping his briefcase more tightly. It was going to be a long walk to work.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, charmed 2 years, 9 months ago

    He had a strange sort of light in him, she thought. The kind that radiated from him, drawing others to him. It charmed them, manipulated them, made them do what he had wanted.

    She had once been one of those fools.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, interview 2 years, 9 months ago

    The interview ran long despite his increasingly terse answers. He bit his lip in frustration, checking the clock on the opposite wall.

    “And where do you see yourself a year from now?”

    “I don’t know,” he ground out. His voice was borderline malicious, but he didn’t care. “You tell me.”

  • WearyWater commented on the post, regrowth 2 years, 9 months ago

    It was a transitional time in her life, marked with sudden insights and a veritable fountain of creativity. All at once, she experienced a regrowth in her passions. Suddenly growing up didn’t seem like such a scary thing.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, stunt 2 years, 10 months ago

    It was an injury sustained a long time ago, probably from one of his alcohol-fueled college stunts. He had felt so invincible then, like the demands of passing time would overlook him. Now, all he could do was stare at the slowly forming wrinkles on his reflection’s face and wonder, ‘When did I get so old?’

  • WearyWater commented on the post, stunt 2 years, 10 months ago

    The stunt had left him winded and more than a little bruised. And judging from the pain in his side, the very real possibility of several broken ribs.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, grove 2 years, 12 months ago

    The grove was a strange, old thing full of twisted trees. The roots were more hand-like than any plant naturally should be, clawing at the muddy hems of her skirts.

    They had told her that the witch’s house would come to her, whatever that meant. They made it sound almost as if it had legs of its own.

    She shivered.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, terrain 2 years, 12 months ago

    The terrain was rough; she didn’t want to even think about what it would do to his wound. He kept on plodding behind her. His occasional sharp intake of breath was the only indication that her suspicions were correct. He was more hurt than he had let on.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, steadfast 3 years ago

    She was a steadfast friend—the kind that I would almost regret stabbing in the back later.

  • WearyWater commented on the post, pursuit 3 years, 1 month ago

    It wasn’t the pursuit that had worn her out—it was the endless stream of words coming out of his mouth now that she had caught him.