Wednesday, September 7, 2011

a little more

Creaky wooden floorboards harbored the exaggerated stomp of heavy, awakening feet. As the creaking proceeded with intensity, so did my concerning insecurity. Adverting my eyes to the floor where Chase would soon be standing, I prepared myself for it to become the all-too-familiar battle ground. 
A feebly, translucent face covered in rough lines of agitation, complimented by an indefinite but relatively small number of scars from a confined experience, appeared in the doorway. Remembering when that once healthy, glowing face would look at me with eyes of adornment had briskly turned into an unforgiving past time. Previously where he had conveyed enthusiastic excitement his eyes now gleamed rampant. 

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