Storygram #194

Storygram #194

My mom has never liked it when I leave our home on “safe and clean” Level 46.

Storygram #183

Storygram #183

Nothing was going through his mind. The fear was too big for there to be any thoughts. He could only focus on the panic fueled action of running from what was sure to be the beating of a lifetime, far worse than the bruises and black eye a month ago.

Storygram #156

Storygram #156

The shotgun shells spilled onto the floor. With shaking hands, he bent down to grab a handful of them, shoving them into his coat pocket. The gun itself was so old and dusty that he wondered if it would fire at all, but he loaded it anyway, fumbling shells into the chamber.

Storygram #141

Storygram #141

They skipped up to the little chapel with their hands locked in an inseparable tangle. All they heard was their own laughter. All they thought was of the happiness they shared. All they felt were their rapidly beating hearts pumping out adrenaline saturated with love.

Storygram #127

Storygram #127

A layer of snow is covering everything, concealing the ugliness of the shivering earth underneath. It all seems too beautiful, too perfect. I brace myself for the onslaught of ridicule from her, covering my heart with a layer of contentment as fleeting as the snow.

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