Their words were disingenuous. Dripping with desire. Oozing with intention. They made her cringe and retreat in the opposite direction of their manipulations. She felt it in the tension in her back, in the slight urge to vomit, in the urge to hide. She wouldn't smile in return, or feign pleasure. What did they want? What did their slippery smiles try to elicit? She wouldn't give it to them, and so they called her a bitch. -j
A dream is growing. Seats filled. Anxious. Broken. Worried. Depressed. Grieving. Miscarried. Sorrowful. Hopeless. Lost. Dead. A haunting melody consumes the air. It is pain. Misguidance. Confusion. An anthem of strength overpowers the weight of the melody. Hard. Heavy. Worthy. Sure. A stage with a story. A man giving tools. A woman peddling good news. Seats. Leaning in. Wonder filled. Caught in curiosity. What is that stirring, that lifting, that . . . Hope? A dream is growing. Looking for the T[ea]
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