Strangers // Part One.

Strangers meet at a party and get intrigued by each other

When he walked into the living room, ducking his head under the door frame as to no muss that fluffy blonde head of his, I knew I was in trouble.

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Crisis.

Crisis poem mac cactus

She stared wistfully at the computer screen

Endless images of tropical locales reproduced from her Google search

She frantically closed down the tab as her boss walked past

And pretended to look deeply interested that the spreadsheet in front of her

Which was, quite frankly, just a vomit of numbers

One day, she thought

One day I’ll break free into paradise

*

This is part of my creative writing series, Shorts. This lil piece was a result of a writing exercise from the Superlatively Rude Level Two workshop, The Nuts And Bolts of Moving Stories Forward. More little snippets to come soon!

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