read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

October 14, 2010
There is dirty laundry everywhere, even spilling out of the bedroom into the living room. Dirty dishes. Empty coke cans. Used paper towels. And books. Books on every available surface.

Classy.

A girl--a woman if she really deserves the title--sits half-curled on the only couch and stares blankly at the mess around her. She wants an escape. From herself. From the hours of 4 A.M. to 6 P.M. She wishes she could sleep until he came home. Wishes she could stay in bed, in a drugged stupor, itchy and tingling and completely devoid of thought.