lead and gold

She places in hair pins to keep it all tidy, arranging it into aesthetic forms, those pleasing to the eyes of others. They always fall out after a few laughs, but she does it anyway. What’s the awkwardness of falling pins to those few moments when you are as beautiful as the rest of them?

She glances into the mirror; something scared and calm is staring back, then turning away as she goes out the door, out the door and into his line of sight.

.
wish I knew

'hair pins',

100drabbles

100drabbles

She thinks of times beneath a tree, things drawn in the leaves: the peace of forests in the ruins of Babel. Maybe.

The high rich ache behind her eyes, the trip of her fingers when she tries to speak, the smooth delete as she changes her words to keep herself quiet. She fails, as always.

Consideration. She’s barefoot but she likes the feel of concrete aggressing her soles, wet to the ankle and getting deeper.

Programmed. People left at midthought. Selfish for it, she doesn’t want to care. Her breathing is the sigh of a plane falling into the sea.

.

A disclaimer before anyone gets into it: due to the complete idiocy of my instructor, I have been banned from using the verb "to be" in any form for any reason - including quotations, idioms, helping verbs, etc. (Amongst other words also, but none are quite so annoying.) Each word on his "banned word list" ducts me one point, no exceptions. Considering I don't want to be failed on account of not playing his ridiculous little game that supposedly prepares us for college essay writing, I had to write it like this. Sorry. I have to get at least a C on the paper to even graduate, and it's like half my grade for this particular class, so... :P

I haven't done too much editing on it. I still have to go through still and add in all my citations (I typed this mostly from memory :P) A lot of the phrasings are pretty convoluted, forced by his "guide to better writing", and I don't know if it's even possible to fix some of them. Also, I know this is pretty technical stuff (he might fail me for doing a topic of relative complexity compared to, oh, the history of baton twirling, knowing him *kicks*) so pointing out any places where I could try and be clearer and stuff would be really helpful also. (I cut about 500 words of the more technical yabbering already. :P) I don't really expect anyone to be able to correct any of this, but if anyone *coughs* FH! *coughs* has any suggestions as to things I might have omitted or should mention... that'd be sweet too.

I'd love you forever if you could add suggestions in any way. Seriously. Like... I'd-bake-you-cookies-and-write-you-bardic-odes love you. Not to mention a "edit an obscenely long essay of mine free" card. :P It's due Friday, so there's a week if you can find the time.

Version 2.0, edited one early Thursday morn. Wouldn't mind more concrit, but this is probably what I'll turn in. I'll run around and thank peeps later, what with the cookies and bardic odes and all.

Without further ado:

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100drabbles

The heart, auctioned to the highest bidder—

—some offer flowers that freeze on a day of snow.

—some offer the slickness of a leather couch in the dark.

—some offer chocolates too sweet for the embittered tongue.

—some offer conversation dulled by their idealistic day.

—and some, some offer the hope of happiness to come.

The highest bid is always hope, but what is it but that gold that turns to lead once held in the hand, presented with the lazy whisper of perhaps and taken away with an unapologetic smile?—yet the heart is always exchanged with joyful tears…