her dainty and nimble fingers cracked open yet another cookie. they poked around for the slip of paper, and snatched it upon contact. they dropped the cookie to the glass table, and her eyes scanned it.
when one door closes, another one opens.
and for a brief, almost imaginary moment, a pang of hope overwhelmed her. maybe it was meaningful, maybe it could apply to this situation, maybe that one, or maybe even them all, because each note is so vague that only a wanderer searching with optimism and pain could find meaning, and draw from it.
so she looked down at the pile of fortune cookies she'd stolen from her work, and her eyes, along with her brain, counted out nine remaining bubbles of meaningless kindling, and that pang dissapated.
but she was a dreamer, and her dainty and nimble fingers yearned to search with the very optimism and pain this was all suited for. so she reached down for yet another, one with the mouth pointing towards her, like it was beckoning for her, but the thought came from her mind, and she shot it down, because believing in such only made it impossible. her fingers cracked it open, they poked around for the slip of paper, and snatched it upon contact. they dropped the cookie to the glass table, and her eyes scanned it.
love is trying to catch you, so fall.
and tears bubbled from her eyes, and in impulse, she brought her fist against the pile of false hope, and cried harder in regret. tears stained small blue letters, and smudged white slips. pain brought broken sobs, and destroyed her hoping wish.
YOU ARE READING
notes
Ficção Adolescenteshort, blinks of stories no one cared enough about. you never cared enough about..
