I felt happy.
I left her.
Then she yelled at me.
I yelled at her.
I caught her arm and spun her around.
She said she hated me.
We talked about what was wrong.
After that, I felt wrong inside.
Then she tried to avoid me.
I asked her if she really did like me.
She frowned when I said I liked her.
I felt happy.
Hm. That's super depressing. Jeez. I'll write something happy next.
ReplyDeleteThat was excellent. Did you write up from the beginning, or down from the end?
ReplyDeleteI can't figure out which way I like to read it from better. It reminds me of Mozart's table music and that's awesome!
ReplyDeleteOogh. I wrote it from the end (start?) of the story. The way it's written.
ReplyDeleteThis feels somewhat like a palindrome to me. The only possible explanation is the "I felt happy."
ReplyDeleteAnyway, this is interesting coming from you. Not to say it wouldn't be interesting coming from anyone, but . . . this doesn't make any sense.
It's great.
Gosh. This is probably caused by bad things happening to me and now I'm completely bonkers.
ReplyDeleteI have no idea what I'm doing. I can't think of anything creative anymore. I would like to be able to write but succubi have attached themselves to my prefrontal cortex and are sucking out my soul.
Your explanation made me chuckle. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteHow can you say "I can't think of anything creative anymore"? This was creative.
As for the succubi... just bathe your head in (dark) chocolate every once in a while, and they'll come out. Or... just stand next to ridiculously handsome but cruel men, if you're the vengeful type.
That is very good Robby. I'm not sure which way I like to read it best.
ReplyDeleteFor a person who doesn't like writing poetry, this is praaaatty good. Just FYI.
ReplyDelete