2003-10-23

Rain shot down like the harsh torrent of angry, yet impassioned lovers, in the thick of their final argument.
The clouds seemed to rumble like the upset stomach of somebody who had drank to much. Somebody who not only had drank to much, but who had made too many mistakes, and who was now full of regret.
Gray on black.
A foreboding storm of what was to come.

She knew the answers, she had thought and rethought her options, and she had come to the conclusion she already had known she would arrive at, before she had even realized that there was a problem.

The scent of Gillette tinged with the natural odors of the male body still lingered in her mind. It was strange.. how smells took on a whole knew meaning. In one’s private thoughts, vanilla equals good things; baking with grandma, a Christmas candle, the Vanilla Fields perfume, gifted to you by a childhood companion, while spice brings back negative emotions; memories of a mean teacher, the aftershave your father only wore when he was angry, the bathroom of the juvenille hall. Two equally innocent chemical formulas that produce an odor, yet a world of feelings within.

What door would Gillette: Frost, open for her in the future? Pleasant or not, it was still undecided.

2003-10-23

kleme I ripped this one from ya..

Started This For My English Class, would love some direction.

(no subject)