He hesitates, and she knows he doesn’t believe her. He shouldn’t – she’s lying, after all. She looks up, empty eyes locking their gaze with his, and repeats her words, tone sickeningly sweet. This time he listens to her every word as though God himself was speaking, and she finds herself satisfied. She has him waiting on her hand and foot, just like everyone else in the sanitarium. And that’s how she likes it.
“And the wallet?”
“What about it?”
“People might ask questions if you have Peter Nolan’s wallet.”
“Then you’re gonna have to come get it back, aren’t ya?”
I want to hold you close,
Soft breath, beating heart,
As I whisper in your ear,
“I wanna fucking tear you apart.”
I can never love you,
I can never love you,
I can never reach you.
using the prompts below, write a drabble (or whatever) a day for the next 30 days. find someone willing to hit you if you miss a day. look back at the end and go ‘oh! i’m a writer!’.
beginning. accusation. restless. snowflake. haze. flame. formal. companion. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. wind. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. sunset. mad. thousand. outside. winter. diamond. letters. promise. simple. future.
