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Dancing Through Life

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This was first posted in The Hub's Flash Fiction Anthology, link is pinned in this very forum.

For those of you unfamiliar with my work, I feel like I must warn you that it is not the happiest. That, however, doesn't mean I'm not happy right now. I just haven't experienced too much of it in my life, and so I write about what I know the best. Don't we all?

I am happy. Not so much as the neighbor, nor my father, but happy in my own wicked way. Green I am, with envy, or fury, or sometimes lust. I envy the neighbor’s ecstatic fa?ade, and my father’s fits of inebriating laughter. At times my own cohesion breaks, and thus this happiness turns rotten. By this point I find myself gasping under the satin sheets, in the four walls that make up my bedroom. I also cry. Childhood memories haunt the light within my head, thrust it to the darkest corner and make me cloudy. And the storm ensues, as in my memories I see a person’s tears being the cause of the villainous, callous tormentor’s happiness. There are also memories of love once gained, and lost too many times. I grasp it in my mind, but that is not enough. It slips my fingertips, like leaves in autumn’s eve. So beautiful it is, but burns with wintry fury. The covers once come off, I promptly sit. I drain the stream with paper, and force resentment away; its bitter chill I’ve felt so many times. It’s mere routine. Don’t fail me, resolution. I… am happy.

Maddy (:

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