Drabbles in Threes (IV)
May. 18th, 2009 11:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hesThese are prompts from the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
even_angels_ prompt community which is organized (and prompted) by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fewthistle and flying_peanuts. :D :D
The prompts are actually the first and last sentences of the drabbles (in italics).
I. 269 words in total; 257 words inside the prompts
I fell into another, different from you. You might have been the perfect boy -- all scruffily handsome, sweet and selfless on all that was important. Or so I thought; that was the face the world and I saw for so many years. Wasn't it ironic that we may have moved in together, into this shoebox of an apartment, but we saw each other even less than when we had been living apart in Chicago? Emily shouted that I gave up my soul the day I wore my first pair of Jimmy Choo's. I wonder which moment you would have chosen as the beginning of our ending.
Your memories of me seem to always be missing that hint of competitiveness I kept under wraps. I don't think it was conscious on my part, but why rain on your struggles as a cook when you sought to become a chef? So we moved apart -- each seeking to find success in a City that is famed for its grittiness and grind. Maybe it began as a series of tests -- each trying to see whether I would continue to reach deep into my mind for that singular willfulness and determination to not surrender. But I learned. It was never what you knew as quickly as it become who you knew. More than anything else, she became the nexus of contacts that spread out from the City, across oceans and then the five continents.
Drifting in an ocean of rough tries and overwhelming change, my dinghy had no buoys and no guidance beyond a pair of ice-blue eyes. And I am lost, here.
II. 106 words in total; 94 words inside the prompts
Night has gone on too long. I am drowning my sorrows in an unending whirlwind of events and nights out among the glittering butterflies to while the time away. The fire burns cold and brings no comfort to those closest. Time passes as if on a merry-go-round -- a rapid blur that shifts everything out of sync. It's easier to ignore that raw sensation of loss when time is filled to the brim with busy-ness. Spinning too fast to really grasp at the emptiness within, I close my eyes to try once more to forget you, only to realize that you are no longer a thought.
III. 164 words in total; 153 words inside the prompts
There is nothing left to whisper. I shout my silence into the winds, expecting it to carry out into the world. A private declaration in the most public of manner. As if defying the immense need to reclaim something from those that would swoop and swirl in gleeful delight over the rotting entrails of a relationship that died a fiery death in the public eye. The shameless diatribes of the last "Mr. Priestly" were bloody carrion for the gossip vultures that had always delighted in the "downfalls" of this fashionable Ice Queen.
Even now, where what we are is constantly being defined by those outside, I seethe at this endless criticism from others for something that has harmed no one; and really should be the business of us two and us alone. It matters not how close you are held, it could never enough, as if shielding whatever this is, away from the prying eyes of the world. There is only you, only this. Everything.
even_angels_ prompt community which is organized (and prompted) by fewthistle and flying_peanuts. :D :DThe prompts are actually the first and last sentences of the drabbles (in italics).
I. 269 words in total; 257 words inside the prompts
I fell into another, different from you. You might have been the perfect boy -- all scruffily handsome, sweet and selfless on all that was important. Or so I thought; that was the face the world and I saw for so many years. Wasn't it ironic that we may have moved in together, into this shoebox of an apartment, but we saw each other even less than when we had been living apart in Chicago? Emily shouted that I gave up my soul the day I wore my first pair of Jimmy Choo's. I wonder which moment you would have chosen as the beginning of our ending.
Your memories of me seem to always be missing that hint of competitiveness I kept under wraps. I don't think it was conscious on my part, but why rain on your struggles as a cook when you sought to become a chef? So we moved apart -- each seeking to find success in a City that is famed for its grittiness and grind. Maybe it began as a series of tests -- each trying to see whether I would continue to reach deep into my mind for that singular willfulness and determination to not surrender. But I learned. It was never what you knew as quickly as it become who you knew. More than anything else, she became the nexus of contacts that spread out from the City, across oceans and then the five continents.
Drifting in an ocean of rough tries and overwhelming change, my dinghy had no buoys and no guidance beyond a pair of ice-blue eyes. And I am lost, here.
II. 106 words in total; 94 words inside the prompts
Night has gone on too long. I am drowning my sorrows in an unending whirlwind of events and nights out among the glittering butterflies to while the time away. The fire burns cold and brings no comfort to those closest. Time passes as if on a merry-go-round -- a rapid blur that shifts everything out of sync. It's easier to ignore that raw sensation of loss when time is filled to the brim with busy-ness. Spinning too fast to really grasp at the emptiness within, I close my eyes to try once more to forget you, only to realize that you are no longer a thought.
III. 164 words in total; 153 words inside the prompts
There is nothing left to whisper. I shout my silence into the winds, expecting it to carry out into the world. A private declaration in the most public of manner. As if defying the immense need to reclaim something from those that would swoop and swirl in gleeful delight over the rotting entrails of a relationship that died a fiery death in the public eye. The shameless diatribes of the last "Mr. Priestly" were bloody carrion for the gossip vultures that had always delighted in the "downfalls" of this fashionable Ice Queen.
Even now, where what we are is constantly being defined by those outside, I seethe at this endless criticism from others for something that has harmed no one; and really should be the business of us two and us alone. It matters not how close you are held, it could never enough, as if shielding whatever this is, away from the prying eyes of the world. There is only you, only this. Everything.