Comments Posted By Cheerio
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It hurts, and not like that. The pressure of the metal on my ribs, the weight bending my spine into a sharp S, the need to be the best. The need, but not the strength. Five drums harnessed to my hips, pulling at my shoulders. I just want that strength.
» Posted By Cheerio On 09.25.2011 @ 9:21 pm
He stepped off the muddied ledge and onto the crusty ground. His tattered boots sunk into the damp earth as he stared solemnly across the dawn-gray field at the retreating figure. The wet grass closed behind her, swallowing everything in a moment.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.27.2011 @ 8:24 pm
He didn’t like to allow his t’s and x’s to completely cross, and this frequently slowed him down. He wanted space between the lines, a moment of lightness, a pregnant breath, a strange freedom that never really mattered in the end.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.25.2011 @ 1:47 pm
His fingers rested lightly on the plastic strings. They were sticky with caramel apples and spilled juice. Small, curling animals, those fingers.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.19.2011 @ 11:19 am
The glass clunked back onto the counter, the gnarled fingers clutching it as though the solid object could squirm away at any time. The owner of the hand turned his grizzled face to the empty seat on his left, quietly eying the ghostly ring of condensation left behind on the ancient board.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.17.2011 @ 6:13 pm
Poured heavily, it made a somehow appetizing sheen across the garage floor. The fumes, that was it. The oily, sliding colors, the slowly expanding edges… He flicked at the lighter and crouched.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.15.2011 @ 11:01 pm
Red-faced, she whirled to face me, her pale hands fluttering dramatically in front of her chest like frantic pigeons. “Oh! Oh! How could you even know about the sort of suffering I live through?!” she howled, her hand flashing for my shirt and gripping, her talon-like nails stretching the fabric. With a final wail, she collapsed and rolled at my feet, pounding in heated bursts at my sharp, dark, uncaring heels.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.14.2011 @ 10:11 pm
The slash was long and deep and terribly crimson, and it occurred to him that his hands would do little to keep his fragile, fleeting life inside. He cupped at the wound desperately, fumbling with the torn clothes and the stinging flesh and the awful flood of regret and blood.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.14.2011 @ 10:34 am
It lay in several pieces in the middle of the lane. Yellow splinters fanned across dull bricks. The mud was slowly pulling the shattered remnants down, and the heartbroken girl couldn’t gather them in time for the rain anyway.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.12.2011 @ 10:45 am
The pinball machine rang out in tinny enthusiasm. Blue lights, green lights, flashing yellow and orange bulbs. “I beat it!” he cried out, his face awash in neon colors and his eager little hands still clasping the levers. When he turned, she’d already moved on.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.04.2011 @ 12:35 pm
They left me standing on the curb, gripping the slightly tattered handle of the flamboyantly magenta duffle my parents had given me. I thought I could hear the high giggling of impish girls in the car speeding away from my house, but it may have only been in my head, a product of the alone.
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.03.2011 @ 11:40 am
“I found it under the bed,” my brother informed me as he lifted the little, dark disk up toward my face. I disdainfully shoved it away. “It’s complete mold!” “No… I think I heard life there…”
» Posted By Cheerio On 04.02.2011 @ 11:38 am
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There was a time when I was called a sexy bear. I didn’t really know what to think of it. I thought this is wierd, I’m not hairy enough to be a bear. Then again, this was Shane and my favorite joke. i really shouldn’t be thinking about him, but apparently i will anyway. My punctuation and phrasing is getting worse and too personal. Bears are terrifying and grea.t My old bestfriends in the band loved bears too. One of the guys we thought of as a bear because of his stature and constant guardian personality. I miss him. Bear. Whether teddy bear or terrifying real bear- I love them.
» Posted By cheerio On 10.14.2010 @ 2:59 pm