Socially Enslaved
Bathed in the charms of a lost soul faking a smile
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Snapshots on a isolated island in the middle of ones mind alone but together just resting in time
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Foods lavishly laid out for fictional consumption because flavor isn’t your friend
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Children at play said from a distance with no one watching but the creepiest who like it
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Happiest moments captured for memories but shown as staged plays of affection that everyone wants
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Keep your goals to yourself, just lurking behind the scenes random posted despair catches attention
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Privacy suicide with cameras that caught the fight but didn’t tell the story, commentary made into jokes for entertaining the blind hearted but it’s okay
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About the Creator
Julaine
Well! Where should I start?
I'm interesting, lets see where this takes us...
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
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