The icy October wind lashed at Sue’s cheeks as she made her way across the parking lot to her car. An unseasonably cold evening in which was planted the spore of an unseasonably hot romance. She had caught a glimpse of him from the coffee shop and tried to go out to him, but by the time she’d reached the threshold, he was already gone – evaporated into the gloaming.
In the brief magnetic instant that she’d seen him, he appeared loping purposefully down the sidewalk, his head turning slightly from side to side as he observed everything. His eyes were concealed behind a big black pair of sunglasses, but she imagined them to be green and intense. The collar was turned up on his leather bomber. The swing of his arms was a counterrhythm to his long stride. She could see even from a distance that he had a tattoo on his right hand.
She felt her heart crumple as she stepped out into the crisp afternoon air and craned her neck in vain to catch a glimpse of this man. She’d been harpooned with the most powerful of feelings, like this man would write the next chapter in her life, could shape her sadness into something towering and worthwhile. He was gone, though – slipped away like the lifesaving rope from a doomed mountaineer.
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Ch. 2
All the heartbreak of years past came galloping, trampling back all of a sudden. Sue’s mouth turned down like a baby’s does when it’s about to wail. She could not prevent the single hard sob that escaped her throat. A terrible wave of loss settled through her body like poison.
She bumbled heavily back to her chair and gripped the paper cappuccino cup for support. That man in the sunglasses was receding ever further from the possibility of togetherness, and dragging, unravelling along behind him a feeble thread of her hope. She could feel it pulling out of her, like the stringy guts of a bee after it’s stung you.
Sue sat in the chair for another half-hour, bruised. Then she forced herself to get up and leave the coffee shop, moping on down the street in her car, back to her apartment. She flopped onto her huge couch and stared at her blank computer screen on the coffee table. She didn’t move for two hours. Then, the leaden blanket of sleep slipped over her. It was a fitful slumber. (33,060)
OK, here we go, my soggy mopesters. In it to win it this time, so do your wurst! +10 oblivion points to anyone who correctly guesses th' inspiration for this one.
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My feet are tired and my hands are sticky Don't think I'll ever make it home The name of forgiveness freezes in my throat So many nights with just the stars as my coat
Am I gone?
A wretched close to this benighted year I don't think I can do any more The soreness crawls like a spider up my back The remorse won't stop gnawing; don't think I'm intact
Am I gone?
Maybe they asked a favor And maybe I said "OK" And maybe now I'm feeling I'm in a place with no escape
This has been such a tough year This has been such a tough year [maybe you can't take any more] This has been such a tough year This has been such a tough year [you just can't take any more] This has been such a tough year [you just can't take any more] This has been such a tough year [you just can't take any more] This has been such a tough year I just can't take any more This has been such a tough year I just can't take any more This has been such a tough year I JUST CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE This has been such a tough year I JUST CAN’T TAKE IT
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