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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Light
Chill
Remember
Lights
Turning
Eucalyptus
Coffee
Blurs
Smell
Chilling
Air
Blazing
Arms
Blur
Fire
Conditioning

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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
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The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
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When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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