She was like...
The first dusting of snow in November
Subtle, fresh, and cold to the touch
She was good for the soul
But hardly memorable
She was like...
A shower first thing in the morning
Clean, refreshing, and fun for the moment
She was nice to wake up to
But by bedtime she had worn off
She was like...
A childhood best friend
Close, understanding, and full of laughter
She was all your favorite memories
But she's in the past
She was like...
A first love
Safe, warm, and never failing
She was the best thing in the world
But now she's gone forever
She was like...
...Me
About the Creator
Andy Anderson
When you can't describe your feelings, do it in third person.
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The Weight of Emptiness
A dim light curls around the edges of the blackout curtain tacked to the wall just above the window, it reaches into the room barely illuminating the contents. Birds chirping in the distance and the low hum of a fan breaks any silence there might have been. She lays among the ruffled blankets and lumpy pillows, only her feet dangling off the end, empty eyes fixed on an odd face shaped stain on the ceiling. A chill down her spine breaks the focus, she takes a deep breath as she lazily reaches around the bed until finding her phone. 2:47. AM or PM she didn’t see before tossing it out of reach and onto the floor. A lump forms in her throat, she holds her breath and shuts her eyes until the lump slides back to her chest.
By Andy Anderson4 years ago in Fiction
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