Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Walking under king bridge





Being asked to show someone the proverbial ropes was a notch down. Changing her outlook just made her feel foreign and out of place; her face, a mask with its plastered on, outlined smile, her clothing like semi soft exterior of a cockroach, chaffing as she tried to keep it together. With her position being usurped she thought hard and fast about her next moves. And they were to be deadly.