Re: Outside Memory Emporium
There was a part of her that would have wished on different stars. She might have wished for success in love or to completely forget the promise of love altogether. She might have wished to be whole, to be happy. She might have wished to have none of the worries and guilt that plagued her normally, that part of her thought that it would be nice to be able to start again. But that part of her was soft and sad and not nearly strong enough to overpower the other part. The other part wanted nothing to do with love or happiness. Not that she was hateful or depressive. Honestly, she didn't have much of a need for emotions at all, she operated better while holding the cold, unresponsive hand of logic. It didn't occur to her that there could be a blend of both, that there was middle ground to walk upon. She'd always been an all-or-nothing kind of girl. If happiness and sadness went hand in hand like siamese twins, then she'd just take emptiness, thank you kindly.
And that is what she drank to, a toast to dissolve all of that mopey, self-hating bullshit. She left it on the back step like red clay kicked off of the soles of hunting boots. There was no place for second guessing or weakness, not today.
She had an edacious interest in all things dangerous -- this one played with fire, she did -- and she liked his eyes just fine. She went to his side, accreting to him like coral to limestone. "Alright, lets," she said of his suggestion to explore. She was always hungry, but in ways that had little to do with food. She was more interested in nourishment of the soul, and maybe he was the same, this bone man who suddenly looked like a walking advertisement for trouble. "What are you starving for?"