fifty word murders

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I shot him in the face. CRACK. What a sound. And no one to hear it for miles around. CRACK CRACK. I shot him twice more, just to hear the sound fill the open sky. It was the violent peal of freedom. Out here I could do whatever I wanted.

Roberto Spiralli, Friday, 13 May 2011 21:01 (nine years ago) link

I leaned close and kissed your cheek. I hadn’t realized until that moment that tears had a smell. Through the reek of the garbage and the traffic and of the city itself, I could discern the scent of those wet lines on your face. They dried and you were gone.

Roberto Spiralli, Friday, 13 May 2011 21:05 (nine years ago) link

I swear I can feel my physical mass diminishing as blood pours out of my stomach and through my fingers. I laugh. It hurts like hell but I am laughing, and what’s so funny is she beat me to it. A step ahead, for once: the only time it counted.

Roberto Spiralli, Friday, 13 May 2011 21:05 (nine years ago) link

six months pass...

Once you entered Zizzi, grandly readying each arm to take in dinner, I noticed glum shoulders and locked lips happening everywhere, all reviling you. Each irksome moment grew ever tougher to ingest. Now, goodness me, a righteous role I enter! Devil injurious, now torn wide open, die across your soup!

once a week is ample, Thursday, 17 November 2011 17:47 (nine years ago) link

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