Tae struggles to breathe. The air from his lungs rushes out as if escaping him. A pool of red grows larger and larger under him, and he feels it through his skin.
By quagmireisadora Oct 31 2019 |
He means nothing and feels nothing. When they throw him in lockup overnight, the tears that he quietly sheds are weightless in their definition.
By quagmireisadora Apr 15 2019 |
They all crashed into each other, first with a little too much aggression deemed appropriate for a reunion, and then with all the happiness of breaking a long separation.
By quagmireisadora Jul 2 2016 |
The first time they met, Min had been beating a man up with the heeled end of her stiletto.
By quagmireisadora Mar 1 2016 |
There was a time when she walked upright. A time when she ran through the wind, danced on the dirt. Her feet drew planets and universes on the dry soil. Her legs spun gold and silver in their gait.
By quagmireisadora Jan 12 2016 |
The wall opposite was built entirely with old glass bottles strung together, which was what dragged him here in the first place.
By quagmireisadora Dec 28 2015 |
They stood in awkward silence for some long minutes after that. Feet shuffled, coat pockets jingled, gazes dropped, overhead speakers let out the latest pop songs.
By quagmireisadora Dec 21 2015 |