princess;;

Bitches will say “gimme another kiss” after being kissed 84848284 times.. it’s me, I’m bitches

It could have been fake, but it was a diamond, and it was lying between a pair of dead leaves, just a couple feet away from my sneakers. The wind picked up, and the leaves began reluctantly flying away. The diamond rolled as well—into my hand.

Fifteen seconds ago, a teal car had sped past Highway 45, fast enough the my jacket wanted to fly with it. I thought there was music playing in the car, but it was actually an argument. Something shiny had flown out of the car window, and the dried leaves next to the highway had caught whatever it was.

The diamond was large enough to fit on a ring and still be conspicuous. It wasn’t some pretty little stud that would play a trombone in an orchestra, adding to the conductor’s vision while appearing only for a moment on the camera. No, this diamond was a rockstar holding the entire mic stand in the air and stamping their bell-bottomed feet to the drum beat.

Then, the car appeared again. It was driving on the opposite side. It was getting closer.

The diamond was in my pocket now. It was still in my hand, and I kept feeling its cut, its ridges and its pointed end. I could probably kill someone with this.

To my right, the forest was vast and inviting, a world of brown pillars and a floor covered in orange, ochre, and mauve. If I were to disappear into that world, the diamond would come with me. You could say that even if I returned to Highway 45 after that, I would still be in a different world than I used to live in. The tree line was practically a portal, and I was standing only a few metres away.

The car was closer now, and there was only one person in it. They passed me by, and I didn’t look back, despite my jacket doing its best to fly again.

I heard the engine quiet down and the tires crunch the leaves. I heard the door open, and a pair of boots step out. I heard them approach me.

“Hey, I’m sorry to trouble you, miss,” the person said. I pretended not to notice, because I wasn’t a miss. “Did you maybe find something around this spot of the road? I may have dropped it from my car.”

My hand was still in my pocket. Shit.

“Hello?” The boots were getting closer. “If you helped me out here, I’d be very grateful. It’s for my wife, see, and she’s walking on the highway right now because she’s… well, she’s pissed with me.”

I looked back as if I’d only just noticed they were talking to me. Hands in pocket. I felt the diamond.

Licking my lips, I nodded at the person. “If she’s pissed, I don’t think you can win her over with… whatever it is you dropped.”

The person stopped in their tracks and held their hips, mouth open just a bit. Well, they were onto me, I figured. “It’s very valuable, okay?”

I squinted at the person. “Now that’s a very different reason than ‘It’s for my wife’,” I said.

“It’s both,” they said, and they started walking towards me. They were taller and bulkier than me, so things weren’t looking good. There was a slim chance that I was more nimble, though—the tree line waited.

“Is it more valuable than your wife?” I asked.

They slowed to a stop again. “I’m not playing this game,” they grunted, shook their head quickly and approached me.

Meanwhile, I took a few steps back. The hair on my forearms was on its end. “Think about it carefully, dude. Your wife has probably hitched a ride by now. She could be halfway to the next town, and you’re here searching for your thing.”

They were listening, but they weren’t stopping.

I held up my hand, hoping they’d stop. “Hear me out, seriously. Let’s say you do find your magic crayon or whatever, and you take it to your wife. You think she’s going to be happy you let her walk off? That you’d rather she ride with some stranger? The longer you spend here searching for your thing, the worse your relationship is going to get.”

They kept coming at me, and I was prepared to dart, just before they opened their arms wide and embraced me in a bear hug. I felt tiny hugging them, but I did sneak my hands out of my pockets and pat their back.

“There, there, it’s going to be alright,” I said. “You still have a chance, but you’re not going to lose it. You’re going to go back to your wife, and you’re going to show her what’s more important in your life.”

After they released their hug, they shook their head and wiped the tears from their eyes. “I’m just… thanks, man. Seriously, thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

I patted their shoulder and nodded. “Go get her, you absolute trooper.”

The person pulled their car keys from their pocket and jogged to the car. They’d barely slammed the door shut before I heard the engine come alive and the tail lights glare at the street. The car made a U-turn and sped off the way it had come, towards a wife who was probably halfway to the next town anyway.

As for me, I found it hard to let go of my grin. The tree line to my right looked a lot duller now, like it was just a stock photo, framed and hung in the lobby of an expensive mansion.

I slipped my hand into my pockets. It wasn’t there.

my special magical spell

.∧＿∧ ( ･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。 ⊂　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーＪ　　　°。+ * lov and hugs * +

Am Plansee

Seeing a Montana sunrise should be on everyone’s bucket list. They are pretty much unparalleled. 🌄

Keith Haring, Journals

There is wisdom in the woods. There are blessings in the brooks. 💚🍃

She’d promised me that she’ll come late on my birthday. My thumb swiped to the message she’d sent me the last night, just after midnight. It said that she’ll come late, because “Today is your birthday”. She sent that last message twice. “Today is your birthday.”

I shifted the curtains a little, and the city outside looked dark, but there were veins of yellow and orange flowing through it. The moon was hanging in the sky like it was on a noose. If I had a horse, I could ride into the skies and shoot the rope.

“Today is your birthday,” the message read. Above, the time read 11:52 pm. I scrolled up to read our previous conversations.

“They don’t care about me,” I’d said. “They just want to come to my place and have a good time. Drink, eat, dance a little, make me eat cake.”

“Why do you let them come?” she’d asked.

“It’d be a hassle to say no,” I’d said. “I don’t need that kind of anxiety.”

I turned the lights off. In the dark, the room looked like it was mine again. No more people with their laughing and their terrible opinions and their inane conversations. No more asking me questions about how the online course is going, and whether I’ve considered signing up at a real college, and telling me that I should get a job that makes me interact with people. No more pretending to laugh at their humour. No more pretending to laugh at myself.

“Today is your birthday.” It was 11:56 pm. I could pretend it was already tomorrow, and that it was no longer my birthday. I’m really good at pretending, it comes very naturally to me. I just hate doing it.

“What are you getting me for my birthday?” I’d asked.

“It’s a surprise, of course.”

“I should probably ask who the author is. It’s not like you get me anything other than books every year.”

“I like to fill your bookshelf,” she’d said with an emoji that had its tongue sticking out. “You never read the books, but I like to think that one day you will. Until then, they’ll be there, waiting.”

I ran my hand against the spines of the books. It was too dark to see what their titles were, but I liked feeling them against my fingertips. Maybe one day, I’ll have the patience to open them up and read them. No, not patience. Just an absence of anxiety.

It was no longer my birthday. I scrolled down to her message, which said that it was my birthday, but was timestamped yesterday. When I locked the phone, the screen went dark, and the room felt even calmer. Now it was even more mine. The only next step was to close my eyes.

So I did just that. I closed my eyes, and I tried to drive out the thoughts of what I’d do if I forget my credit card at an ATM, or if I book a movie ticket and show up at the theatre by myself, or if I read at a bookshop and—

The doorbell rang.

Today is my birthday.

—