Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2014 15:44:49 GMT -5
Someone was stirring in the predawn, rising from the cozy nest she had made out of her bedding and stretching her arms over her head.
And her brain started to think.
Sometimes, life eats you alive.
She padded across the warped, cherry hardwood flooring of her room towards the kitchen. She lived in a studio apartment, so everything was pretty clustered together, but it worked out well.
Sometimes, you just want it to swallow you whole.
She pressed the 'Brew' button on her fancy Mr. Coffee maker and leaned back against the white marble counter, lifting her head to stare at the ceiling.
Sometimes, you stare at yourself in the mirror after a shower and wonder what would have happened if you had pressed your razor into your skin. What your blood would look like, mixed in with the water, swirling towards the drain.
Her coffee pot gave a high-pitched beep that rung in her ears three times, signaling it was done. She turned back towards the pot and got out a mug from the cabinet above it, measuring out sugar, pouring the coffee in. She moved towards the stainless steel fridge, got out the whole milk and a spoon from the drawer beside the stove, stirring the milk in. The coffee turned paler, and paler, until she had to add more of the leftover coffee from the pot to make it the color she liked - the color of good caramel.
But you know you can't give up. You know you have to keep going, that you have to be strong. Why?
She heard a whinny from her horse and lifted a curtain from the window at the sink, smiling at the black Friesian mare she could call her own. The horse knew it was almost breakfast time.
Because somewhere, someone needs you.
A knock on her door alerted the woman, startling her and causing her to spill some coffee onto her hand. She sucked at the spot, cleaning it from her palm and peered through the peephole, opening the door. "Hello?"
And her brain started to think.
Sometimes, life eats you alive.
She padded across the warped, cherry hardwood flooring of her room towards the kitchen. She lived in a studio apartment, so everything was pretty clustered together, but it worked out well.
Sometimes, you just want it to swallow you whole.
She pressed the 'Brew' button on her fancy Mr. Coffee maker and leaned back against the white marble counter, lifting her head to stare at the ceiling.
Sometimes, you stare at yourself in the mirror after a shower and wonder what would have happened if you had pressed your razor into your skin. What your blood would look like, mixed in with the water, swirling towards the drain.
Her coffee pot gave a high-pitched beep that rung in her ears three times, signaling it was done. She turned back towards the pot and got out a mug from the cabinet above it, measuring out sugar, pouring the coffee in. She moved towards the stainless steel fridge, got out the whole milk and a spoon from the drawer beside the stove, stirring the milk in. The coffee turned paler, and paler, until she had to add more of the leftover coffee from the pot to make it the color she liked - the color of good caramel.
But you know you can't give up. You know you have to keep going, that you have to be strong. Why?
She heard a whinny from her horse and lifted a curtain from the window at the sink, smiling at the black Friesian mare she could call her own. The horse knew it was almost breakfast time.
Because somewhere, someone needs you.
A knock on her door alerted the woman, startling her and causing her to spill some coffee onto her hand. She sucked at the spot, cleaning it from her palm and peered through the peephole, opening the door. "Hello?"
Just making sure)