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Blissful ignorance can be a beautiful passion. Unfortunately, my love for you is not beautiful nor ignorant. For years have I haunted your footsteps down the corridors of your childhood, my ghastly cloak casting itself across the tiles, leaving a subtle yet unavoidable stain on all things touched.
My hands slice through your aftermath, forever striving, craving, grasping for the gentle comfort from curled golden locks, forever in the twitching knowledge of our eternal separation. No more shall this charade maintain.
I dreamt of looking down into those rosey cheeks, that glistening smile, your naive eyes, guided in a whirlwind through such a ceremony to cement the faith the we would not separate 'til death do us part'. How cruel a direction that it should be our fate to be only brought together by the binding nature of our mortality.
I lay your now beautifully reshaped form on pillows bearing a pink tinge, our cheeks blood red in anticipation. I take a moment. Just one, to take one last taste of loneliness. Thousands of pictures of you lay strewn across the room, covering your perfectly still chest. The memories flood back as I glimpse an image I had captured only one week ago, scribbled on it was Melissa's 12th Birthday Party in crimson red. A single blissful smile crosses my features as I at last release unto you myself, my heart, my soul.
I stole the title from a Biffy Clyro album
My hands slice through your aftermath, forever striving, craving, grasping for the gentle comfort from curled golden locks, forever in the twitching knowledge of our eternal separation. No more shall this charade maintain.
I dreamt of looking down into those rosey cheeks, that glistening smile, your naive eyes, guided in a whirlwind through such a ceremony to cement the faith the we would not separate 'til death do us part'. How cruel a direction that it should be our fate to be only brought together by the binding nature of our mortality.
I lay your now beautifully reshaped form on pillows bearing a pink tinge, our cheeks blood red in anticipation. I take a moment. Just one, to take one last taste of loneliness. Thousands of pictures of you lay strewn across the room, covering your perfectly still chest. The memories flood back as I glimpse an image I had captured only one week ago, scribbled on it was Melissa's 12th Birthday Party in crimson red. A single blissful smile crosses my features as I at last release unto you myself, my heart, my soul.
I stole the title from a Biffy Clyro album
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So I that way I succeeded, hurrah!
.. and I was making the point that I got the point but then what was the point in this point?
Sorry :)
I don't find a lot of 'icky' tales icky normally though.
Sorry :)
I don't find a lot of 'icky' tales icky normally though.
That was the point, unless I missed the point myself...
Thanks for teh comments though chaps and chapesses.
Thanks for teh comments though chaps and chapesses.
* sigh *
Another blonde! Other than that nice but it did strike me as a little icky :)
Another blonde! Other than that nice but it did strike me as a little icky :)
Nice, you should write more.
Damn it! There's so many good tales coming from this competition. It's going to be impossible to choose a winner at this rate...
Read mine, FFF.
I read yours. All 15 billion pages of it.
I read yours. All 15 billion pages of it.
Qualitah.
(6)
A nice/very nasty snippet
Has atmosphere and I really don't know what else I can say about it. Good wordage too.
I think it was a nice length also. Really short stories don't usually work, but this one did.
[S]nasty choice of topic, mind
Has atmosphere and I really don't know what else I can say about it. Good wordage too.
I think it was a nice length also. Really short stories don't usually work, but this one did.
[S]nasty choice of topic, mind
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