The space was complicated; so, she resorted to speaking over-formally.
This town is starving for outsiders, but their dearth belies how the ravenous insiders devour the stranger.
They never saw the film but did like the video.
Intriguing, not difficult, becomes your vision.
The most trivial can be the most fascinating in this mystery of local idiosyncrasies
Strangest snow days she has ever seen.
She notes the font of her handwriting is subject to change without her awareness.
And, a single, specific thought seemingly drains your flaming blood into your feet.
Watching white suits leaving a briefing room.
Rustling. Give it two minutes and watch the weather change.
This.
Something.
Anything.
A hint of earnest, earned lethargy creeps, while the aroma of grapefruit percolates.
And, she kind of likes it when he tells her, “don’t look at me.”
The drone of an organ’s pumping warbles off of twirling, warped vinyl.
The strip of a terrific, diagonal stripe.
“Come hither, fool,” I snarled your full name while summiting multiple climaxes yesterday.
Simply, because,
I can.
I may.
fly.
“Early on, it’s silent.”
The blinds breathe as winds plow into screens.
Screaming hyænas hawing; locking into amber.
And, the condescension of his tone really pulled his outfit together.
The light fades and the sun sinks; and, she feels glad to have finally reached the town called Tonite,
where you see nothing and she sees all of nothing.
The light begins to bleed down blind slats in trickles, splattering on her floor.
“They oughtta incentivise me,” she overhears the casual walker say.
The last burst of light leaks into a small pool on the rightside of the cherrywood desk.
Then, it slides down the legs onto the floor, below, to join the previous dribbles.
A sugar glaze.
WrittenCasey 