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Colourblind Crayon

PostPosted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 8:34 pm


So, I wrote this short story a long time ago. And I mean quite a few years ago.

I haven't really done anything with it, and people found it super confusing, but it's something I don't mind sharing.

The rest I do. Because I'm not allowed to share them ahead of time. =)

Oh. And if someone could help me with a name, that'd be superrrb. <3




A shiver ran through my body, even though I had every possible sort of protection from the bone-chilling cold of the night air. It wasn’t even winter yet, just a wet October night, in an empty field. It was empty of players, empty of footballs, empty of screaming fans and especially empty of happiness.

I felt lingering memories and a sense of darkness. It was as though I would disappear as soon as I closed my eyes. I could see around me, yet I could not feel my own presence as I stood behind him, in the centre of the field. He refused to turn; to even glance at me, acknowledge me; forgive me.

“Please, listen to me…I didn’t mean to. I was just so angry and frustrated with you…I had to leave for a while and catch some air. I had to be free of you for a while. Please, won’t you at least look at me?” Tears were streaming down my face and I felt the aftermath of my sorrow stiffen on my face, unnoticeable to the one I was concerned with. I could see my breath as I remained stubbornly still, willing him to speak to me.

Finally, he turned with a look of surprise on his face. My sorrow had found it’s way over to him, I realized. What had once been tears, marked his face, in streaks on both sides, a single line on each cheek.

He looked down at me and smiled miserably. “You must be lost. What are you doing here, alone?” Just then, as though the world had just increased its size on me within seconds, he picked me up, slowly. “You’re not heavy at all.”

I almost cried in terror, as I looked down at the ground. It suddenly seemed too far away. I didn’t want to fall…no, not again.

“You know, I really didn’t mean what I said to her. I wish she hadn’t driven off like that. I wish it had been me instead.” He said, his voice cracking slightly. He glanced at the bleachers behind me, his eyes were narrowed and burning with emotions I could not read.

I tried to speak in protest that he hadn’t seemed sorry when we argued two nights before, forgetting that he held me in his hands, unnaturally so. All that escaped my throat was a weak chirp. And I knew, that maybe I had taken my unfortunate fury a little too far.

I couldn't fall anymore, I had been granted wings.


Themes: Sorrow, death, reincarnation, moving on.
PostPosted: Tue Jul 24, 2007 7:01 pm


Ooo... That's a really good short story. It made sense sort of. Hope you become a writer. :] Writing stories seems to be your forte.

BliSS Xtreem

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