As the chemo nuked her, she thought of the times she had not allowed herself to express her anger. But it had found another way.
Failed to succeed? Or succeeded to fail? Only fear could make sense of an equation where failure equaled success.
The blood drip, drip, dripped from my cut finger. After you, I should have known that a beautiful rose was full of painful thorns.
He was choking her…then why was he struggling to breathe? He did not know that while she struggled, her hand was choking him.
“Why’d you do it? Why did you kill them?”
“The man in the moon told me to,” he said tilting his head, his eyes owl-like.
As the smooth Bailey’s Irish cream ice-cream made its way to her mouth, she closed her eyes in ecstasy. Life…was good.
She was shaking from inside as she held her dream in her hands and her friends did a mad dance around her. It had happened.