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30 Mar 2016

Fidget.


She’ll pick up that book and put it down again. She’ll try to flatten out the dogears that someone else inflicted. She'll absently scratch the cat. She'll gulp down water and look at her lip balm transfer onto to the rim of the bottle. She'll look out of the window and wonder if they will ever repaint the school building she can see. She'll absently twirl her hair and then catch herself twirling her hair and then stop twirling her hair because she tries so hard, so very hard not to end up a stereotype. She'll toe a coffee stain on the floor and wonder where the new wash cloth is. She'll wipe the fans down and dust the cobwebs away. She'll push play and sweat it out and then look at the rolls around her tummy while in the shower. She'll get her liner wings right. Then she'll wash it off and choose to paint her lips a burnt cinnamon. She will smell the sun in the fresh laundry. She will turn the AC off and then turn it on again when beads of sweat form at the nape of her neck. She will finger the chips in her nail polish. She will sigh a little and go back to the book, only to read the same line over and over again.

She will do everything but say sorry.

P.S: Found this idea on #writersofInstagram. Couldn't, for the life of me, find it again today to credit it. Writing is my own, though, as always.