[✓] ∥ "Cloe." "Cloe?" "Yes, Cloe." "...As in Lorena Cloe?" "How many Cloes do we know?" The taller of the two college boys looked across the bar, at the brunette who was sitting at a table in the corner. She was drinking Coke and talking to her friend, which he recently realized is a routine of hers. He knew her well; from the hallways, as well as class. He knew she spent days with her head in a book, or talking to the same group of people. There was nothing really special about her, nor did she catch anyone's eye for longer than five seconds. It confused him how she seemed to like it that way. He also knew that she was not just hard to get, but nearly impossible to. For someone as confident as him, he doubted himself quite a bit when it came to her. Nevertheless, he turned to his friend, a relaxed and casual look on his face, making him seem almost bored. "Deal." - Watty Awards 2013 Winner - Copyright © 2013 by funkystyles

“take these sunken eyes and learn to see.”

"please tell me, the end is near."

" in which dreamers race across the depths of africa in three glorified rickshaws. "

a story about a love sick boy, a one of a kind girl, and their everlasting enemy, depression. [salteds - 2014]

sometimes love is dead and all you see is this ghost of it sitting in a corner in your living room. [salteds - 2014]

❝i'm making a list, you see. to complete before i die.❞ © enlivening. all rights reserved.

"he will never play soccer again."