catastrophe
It would be the last day.
She woke, she ate, she talked to those around her. She went to her doctor's appointment. She rode in the car. She stayed home with her sisters. She hid in the bathroom.
She cried, and cried before slowly, she shut down.
It would be the last day.
And she wondered,
hiding her feet in the smooth sand,
and her tears behind her long bangs,
how he could could be so cruel.
And the tides came and went,
And washed her away.
She was never one for matching. No, her socks were always different from each other, and her pants never seemed to quite go with the shirt she had so hurriedly put on that morning, but those things were not important to her. She had always had something better to concentrate on, something more…imminent. The deadline.
And her ever impending deadlines could not be avoided; they were always coming at her, and fast. She couldn’t fall through this time.