ImperfectlyPerfect
Bio
My favorite well known saying: An amateur does it until they get it right, while a professional does it until they can't get it wrong. Don't work to get it right, work to not get it wrong!"
Achievements (1)
Stories (31/0)
Love Somehow Slipped Away
Dear My True Love, Would you believe me if I told you we've loved many lifetimes before? And that I've sat in my room praying, for many more. When we first locked eyes, I could feel your kindred soul brush across mine. I instantly knew that this connection had to be divine. The gentle caress of your eyes appraising me from head to toe caused goosebumps to bloom; instantly everyone else melted away, it was just us in the room. Like a deer in headlights, your silent approval ceased all motion. My mind became hazy as I sipped your love potion. I could feel my heart beating so rapidly within my chest, the stirring of emotions simply too much to digest. I could see the flicker of surprise in your eyes, as you held my gaze. It's like we finally found our way home, at the end of a maze. I fled the scene, like a criminal being chased. Talking aloud to myself, as I steadily paced. I felt exposed, more naked than a newborn baby. Perhaps, I slightly overreacted. Possibly, maybe. It scared me, and I could tell it also had you shook. We had this unexplainable connection, the kind you'd find in a romance book. Just a glance from a man should not have had me in such a tizzy, but I couldn't help but feel light heated, so unbalanced and dizzy. A hand enclosed mine and I knew it was yours, I could feel my temperature rising as sweat dropped from my pores. You smiled at me, and I knew the battle was lost. I was going to make you mine, no matter the cost.
By ImperfectlyPerfect2 months ago in Humans
Goodbye Little Girl
I stare at my footprints embedded deep within the snow, and I replay monumental moments in my life. I remember waking up to the smell of fresh baked bread, and I would know grandma was there to visit,but she stopped when grandpa got sick. The house never smelled the same again. I can remember chasing my baby brother on mama's freshly waxed floors, slipping and sliding with the grace of Elvis. But then he grew up, started his own family, and moved away. Little Sue from around the corner would come and play on the swings in my front yard with me. We would laugh at all the yucky boys, but eventually she stopped finding them so yucky, and visited their house instead. My daddy decided he liked the family a few towns over more than us, so he left, before I got my high school degree. Mama would tirelessly clean every nook and cranny to keep her mind preoccupied, until osteoporosis made her bones too weak. Now, she just sits in her cottage alone. As for me, when I got that acceptance letter, I too left. But....... the house never left me. As I stare into the house, I see the little girl I once was, sadly waving goodbye to me. I scribble my name in the snow, hoping to leave behind another piece of me. This house may be sold, but it will always be home for me. I wonder who will replace my footprints in the snow.
By ImperfectlyPerfect3 months ago in Fiction
Fighting My Own Demons
As the words resolutions and goals dance across my social media page, I can feel the pressure increase in my chest with every post I scroll by. Something akin to a herd of elephants tap dancing on my spinal cord renders me temporarily paralyzed both mentally and physically. "What is it that I really hope to accomplish in the year 2024 as a creator"?, I ask myself. Every year I aspire to write more, challenge my creativity more, and somehow end up with a finished product before the year ends. Unfortunately, every year prior to joining vocal, I would start strong and somewhere along the lines I would begin to fall off with consistency. Vocal provided me with something I couldn't seem to set for myself, DEADLINES. When I'm made aware that I don't have an infinite time to get something accomplished, I have more discipline to buckle down and execute the task. Plus, when you know you've paid for a subscription, you get a little extra push to actually utilize it. My first aspiration for 2024 as a vocal creator, is experimentation.
By ImperfectlyPerfect3 months ago in Motivation
The Never Ending Trail
The barren land, as lifeless as my once filled womb, loudly taunts me with the scorching rays of the unforgiving sun. Slowly breathing in through my nose, and out through my mouth, I attempt to slow down my freight train of a heartbeat. My yoga instructor once told me, that to regulate your breathing and to increase endurance, you have to know how to properly breathe. I pray she was right, because I could use that extra burst of energy right about now. I hesitantly take another small sip of water from my bottle, trying to preserve as much of the quickly depleting liquid as possible. The sting of the water surprises me, I was expecting cool relief, not the scathing temperament of freshly brewed tea. If by some small chance I make it out of here alive, I will definitely be requesting a prompt refund from amazon. Twenty-four hours guaranteed cold water my ass, it's been less than twelve hours, and the insulation somehow isn't insulting.
By ImperfectlyPerfect5 months ago in Fiction
A critique of Psycho Joe (You)
I get it, Joe is intentionally handsome to disarm us all. Unfortunately, his looks have stifled his potential to have a stronger character arch. I would be far more impressed by his ability to swindle if he had to depend solely on substance versus surface. He is not that cunning.
By ImperfectlyPerfect8 months ago in Critique
The Collection Plate Heist
Money filled envelopes began to make their way into the collection plates. It was the annual Family Day Event at Mount Beau . Every member of each family was required to attend. The pastor officiated the mini service, and after the final choir song, the treasurer walked ominously to the front of the church. In descending order, she gave a total collective donation each family contributed. When she got to the last family on the list, the Jones's, many of them stood and began to hastily make their way to the exit doors blocked by the armed church ushers. Despite their screams, attempts at fighting, and pleas, they are pushed into the sacrifice chambers.
By ImperfectlyPerfect11 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - June 2023
