fantamae
These days I feel like everything is slipping through my fingers. Like things that I could hold before, things that I could grasp, safe in my fist, are turning intangible and unreachable.
It's funny because the very word sounds tired.
Fatigue.
The syllables drag out as you speak, the end dropping off in an exhausted exhale. It's the kind of word that sounds like it's been beaten and dragged through the dirt before it even comes out of your mouth.
She was flat. That was really the only way to put it. I mean, I guess I could've been a bit kinder about it, said that she was "boobily challenged" or "hadn't blossomed yet" but let's be honest: kind isn't really my style, and she had less chest than I did. And I'm a dude.