of jealousy

From the corner of your eye you can see them talking. She is laughing loudly. Your jealousy, a living, shifting, growing thing knocks softly at your insides. She knows you’re watching. She waves and walks toward you.

You’re one lucky bitch. He’s always either talking to you or about you.

Separator

This post was written in response to the Weekly Writing Challenge: Fifty. What do you think?

Also, the photo is from one of my trips to the hills. More on the trip to follow soon!

 

 

 

of how things look

You’re no longer listening to the long-lost friend you’re meeting today. You’re, instead, looking at her.

Unlike many other lone inhabitants of coffee shops, she’s not reading or pretending to read while she waits for someone. She’s not fidgeting with her phone either. She’s just sitting by the window, looking outside, sipping coffee from her cup, enjoying it almost as though it were her last.

You have never seen a sight so rare. You can’t stop staring. Continue reading of how things look