![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Attachment, Steel & End Game
Apr. 24th, 2007 12:13 amTitle: Attachment
Rating: PG-13
Original Fiction
Word count: 90
Note/Warning: I'm bored as hell, and these scenes have been running around my brain. So damn it, I wrote some short stories.
She stood in the kitchen, twirling the phone cord around her fingers. She wasn't sure why exactly this phone was still corded. All the other phones in the house were wireless. She hadn't ever really noticed that until now. The cord was almost as curly as her hair; she watched a few curls fall over her shoulder and dangle next to the phone. Touching the cord she remembered that night. He had called her at midnight when she was home alone. She smiled to herself. That was a fun night.
Title: Steel
Rating: PG-13
Original Fiction
Word count: 124
The steel glimmered in the light. It was mid-day, so the sun was bouncing off the truck in the driveway. The hallway always lit up in that way that she loved. She paused for a moment, staring at the brightness all around her. Bright on the outside, darkness inside.
She let her eyes fall back on the blade. She could read the name of the company near the handle. Made in China it said just below that. She smiled at that, but she didn't know why. Then she wondered if the coolness of the blade would transfer to the skin as it cut its path.
Her concentration was broken again as a car turned into the driveway next to her truck. He was home.
Title: End Game
Rating: G
Original Fiction
Word count: 191
Too many emotions and thoughts were running through her mind. She nearly passed out from lack of oxygen during her sprint to the computer. Nothing was making sense. She tried to think of the password that she needed as she stared at the code flashing past her eyes on the screen. She couldn't make out anything, and the tears weren't helping. Susan looked around and wanted to just yell stop! but knew that wouldn't help. She glanced back at the computer, tears welling in her eyes. She did the only thing she could.
She pounded one fist into the keyboard and the other straight through the monitor.
"Stupid 80s beige crap. It's the 21st century!" She yelled her frustration to the empty lab. She slumped to the floor next to the desk, listening to the computer short circuit and the glass falling around her. "It's over," she said, sobbing softly to herself. Her tear-stained, sweaty face was ruddy and her disheveled hair was sticking to her cheeks.
She was exhausted from the pursuit earlier and even though the klaxon was still blaring in the distance, she fell asleep among the chaos.
Rating: PG-13
Original Fiction
Word count: 90
Note/Warning: I'm bored as hell, and these scenes have been running around my brain. So damn it, I wrote some short stories.
She stood in the kitchen, twirling the phone cord around her fingers. She wasn't sure why exactly this phone was still corded. All the other phones in the house were wireless. She hadn't ever really noticed that until now. The cord was almost as curly as her hair; she watched a few curls fall over her shoulder and dangle next to the phone. Touching the cord she remembered that night. He had called her at midnight when she was home alone. She smiled to herself. That was a fun night.
Title: Steel
Rating: PG-13
Original Fiction
Word count: 124
The steel glimmered in the light. It was mid-day, so the sun was bouncing off the truck in the driveway. The hallway always lit up in that way that she loved. She paused for a moment, staring at the brightness all around her. Bright on the outside, darkness inside.
She let her eyes fall back on the blade. She could read the name of the company near the handle. Made in China it said just below that. She smiled at that, but she didn't know why. Then she wondered if the coolness of the blade would transfer to the skin as it cut its path.
Her concentration was broken again as a car turned into the driveway next to her truck. He was home.
Title: End Game
Rating: G
Original Fiction
Word count: 191
Too many emotions and thoughts were running through her mind. She nearly passed out from lack of oxygen during her sprint to the computer. Nothing was making sense. She tried to think of the password that she needed as she stared at the code flashing past her eyes on the screen. She couldn't make out anything, and the tears weren't helping. Susan looked around and wanted to just yell stop! but knew that wouldn't help. She glanced back at the computer, tears welling in her eyes. She did the only thing she could.
She pounded one fist into the keyboard and the other straight through the monitor.
"Stupid 80s beige crap. It's the 21st century!" She yelled her frustration to the empty lab. She slumped to the floor next to the desk, listening to the computer short circuit and the glass falling around her. "It's over," she said, sobbing softly to herself. Her tear-stained, sweaty face was ruddy and her disheveled hair was sticking to her cheeks.
She was exhausted from the pursuit earlier and even though the klaxon was still blaring in the distance, she fell asleep among the chaos.
