Fly by post
Feb. 27th, 2011 01:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
necia_phoenixI finished the weird story. I went on about 1k more though I think I will be able to trim those words in my edit.
As I wrapped that story up I realized where it fits in the grande scheme of all of my projects. Of course it is set in a world in which I have all ready written. I can't have a stand-alone to save my life.
Anyways, have a snip....
She sits at a table in the corner. Alone. She faces the window, hopes to glimpse the one she is waiting for. A pale madonna, taking long hard drags on her cigarette. The smoke curls from the lit end up towards the ceiling. Towards a Heaven that no longer exists. She exhales. Her lipstick catches my eye. Red. Bright red. Like life blood. I wonder if her lips taste as sweet as they appear.
She pushes her hair back behind her ear and I can see her neck now, pale skin, almost translucent. Her veins call to me. It would be nothing to call her over, to breathe in her scent. To take. Just a small sip.
Thunk! In front of me is the cup of canned blood I ordered. I look up at the Bartender. His name is lost in a fog of memories. He is the Bartender. He glares at me.
"No hunting in my bar, Jacob."
Good night lj.
As I wrapped that story up I realized where it fits in the grande scheme of all of my projects. Of course it is set in a world in which I have all ready written. I can't have a stand-alone to save my life.
Anyways, have a snip....
She sits at a table in the corner. Alone. She faces the window, hopes to glimpse the one she is waiting for. A pale madonna, taking long hard drags on her cigarette. The smoke curls from the lit end up towards the ceiling. Towards a Heaven that no longer exists. She exhales. Her lipstick catches my eye. Red. Bright red. Like life blood. I wonder if her lips taste as sweet as they appear.
She pushes her hair back behind her ear and I can see her neck now, pale skin, almost translucent. Her veins call to me. It would be nothing to call her over, to breathe in her scent. To take. Just a small sip.
Thunk! In front of me is the cup of canned blood I ordered. I look up at the Bartender. His name is lost in a fog of memories. He is the Bartender. He glares at me.
"No hunting in my bar, Jacob."
Good night lj.
