#1
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Lying in the grass at night, developing dew sinking into the cloth under our backs, prodding at us like a little girl wanting attention from her father while he's working... we nod her off and watch the clouds above, illuminated by some lunar spirit showing depths we couldn't see in the day. Funny how clouds can be both darker and lighter than the night sky, and the sky is never blue or black but purple and orangey gray. I'm too preoccupied by the dinosaurs being formed to notice that our hands are laced, and while you bask in the moment I imagine them roaring the song of the crickets and frogs nearby.

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I lie in the summer sun before my family comes back home, covering my book in the shade of my tired fingers to keep from hurting my eyes in the glare. My vision is in pinpricks as the brightness overwhelms, and finally my eyelids droop, the words on the page meld together into mush, and I am lulled to a toasted slumber. My skin feigns the shade it needs by growing a shadow, deeper and deeper currents of brown.

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lying naked next to you as your ceiling fan whirs, making your flowery textured ceiling twitch and move uncomfortably. we are dripping in sweat and lying close enough to comfort but far enough to remain comfortable. it is quiet. your air conditioner buzzes on. i am too restless to find solace in the silence, but still i lie, unable to think of what to say. i wonder why we call it intimacy... nothing truly intimate seems to come before it anyway.

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i am in bed. the insect sounds from outside start to turn to bird chirps, and the sky begins to glow green. id be lying if i told you i wasnt lonely.
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Last edited by vintage x metal at May 25, 2010,
#2
I mentioned on your last piece that I loved your powerful and emotional characters, and you just gave me the best yet. This was simply amazing. I'm guessing there will be more parts to this coming. I would love to see how it turns out.
#3
The imagery, the character, the emotion, the thematic eloquence and subtlety. All there. This is one of my favorites from you.
here, My Dear, here it is
#4
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Lying in the grass at night, developing dew sinking into the cloth under our backs, prodding at us like a little girl wanting attention from her father while he's working... we nod her off and watch the clouds above, illuminated by some lunar spirit showing depths we couldn't see in the day. Funny how clouds can be both darker and lighter than the night sky, and the sky is never blue or black but purple and orangey gray. I'm too preoccupied by the dinosaurs being formed to notice that our hands are laced, and while you bask in the moment I imagine them roaring the song of the crickets and frogs nearby.

I can't even crit this. I just want my hand to be the one laced with yours.
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I lie in the summer sun before my family comes back home, covering my book in the shade of my tired fingers to keep from hurting my eyes in the glare. My vision is in pinpricks as the brightness overwhelms, and finally my eyelids droop, the words on the page meld together into mush, and I am lulled to a toasted slumber. My skin feigns the shade it needs by growing a shadow, deeper and deeper currents of brown.
My vision is in pinpricks
the words on the page meld together into mush

Those are both just fine the way they are, but something nags at me, telling me there are better ways to say them.
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lying naked next to you as your ceiling fan whirs, making your flowery textured ceiling twitch and move uncomfortably. we are dripping in sweat and lying close enough to comfort but far enough to remain comfortable. it is quiet. your air conditioner buzzes on. i am too restless to find solace in the silence, but still i lie, unable to think of what to say. i wonder why we call it intimacy... nothing truly intimate seems to come before it anyway.
close enough to comfort but far enough to remain comfortable

I read that several times and still can't decide whether I love it or hate it.

same with the intimacy / intimate thing.

This is nicely done, given the small space you've confined it to. I can imagine this filling a page on its own. The thought of physical proximity and emotional distance/disconnect is a sad and powerful canvas to paint upon.

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i am in bed. the insect sounds from outside start to turn to bird chirps, and the sky begins to glow green. id be lying if i told you i wasnt lonely.

the stark brevity seems appropriate here.


I like the premise of this. Normally we think of taking context and looking at it from differing points of view. Here we have a similar vantage point, but differing context in each of the scenes. Juxtaposing them as you have, allows them to become much greater than the sum of their parts.
Meadows
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#5
I, of course, had to read your first after reading your second. This is equally as good, and the last line is brilliant. If I were you, I would've wrote that entire thing excited to use that one line in the very end and blow some minds. x) I'll be keeping an eye out for the rest of your stuff, it's fantastic.