Him: Bizarre, Eccentric, Erratic
Me: Blue, Gloomy, Melancholy
Him: Full Blooded, Glowing Rosy
Me: Bleached, Faded, Palish
Him: Extravagant, Grotesque, Surreal
Me: Accidental, Unexpected, Unforeseen
Him: How do you feel?
Me: How ridiculous, how kooky
Him: Do you feel free?
Me: Do I look comfortable?
Him: I see, white, grey, melancholy
Me: I seek comfort, luxury
Him: Then let's try crimson red
Me: You are too shallow, mysterious, fuzzy
Him: What if you took my hand?
Me: I don't know where we'd plummet
Him: To an abyss of peaches and champagne
Me: You're an artist
Him: Will you be my muse?
About the Creator
Savannah Daringflower
I write stories that trigger daydreams and everything fun in between...
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The Fish Song
The room didn’t smell like disinfectants. Its fragrance seemed light and not overbearing. A soft mixture of lavender and mint permeated the space. No beeping machines or any tubes hooked up to four-year-old Kaleeka. Her cacao skin seemed to glow from the light over her head. The family, save for one and the doctors and nurses exited the room like a trail of saints showing their last vestiges of regard.
By Skyler Saunders7 days ago in Fiction
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