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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 55
Author
Writer
WAL
Becoming
Deadness
Easier
Chased
Longer
Pretended
Dead
Sinking
Money
Trap
Else
Traps
Someone
Deeper
Gets

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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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You nodded towards the cup. Want more? I shook my head. What about the car? Didn't find it. You were heading back towards me when I found you. Towards . . . ? You nodded. So I reckoned the car had probably got stuck or died somehow, and you were just coming home. Home? Yeah. Your mouth twitched. Back to me.
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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.
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
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I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
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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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The sand stretched out gray and ghostlike and illuminated, a column of light leading forward. It was like something a dead person would see, a tunnel leading toward heaven.
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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