Until it hurts

It was like

   yanking on a pulley rope
   pulling a threaded seam
   drawing back a bow

trembling
taut
uncertain

he drew up the corners of his mouth to try a smile.

and again.
Hold fast, damn you.

so afraid that

   the rope would slip
   the thread would break
   the arrow would fly

his image would rip.

Nothing underneath but

damage
destruction
death

Dean.

Return to interwebs

I'm so full up with phrases and feelings and more things beginning with the phonetic sound made by "f".

Fear.

Flippan..cy. That's a word, yes?

Fatigue.

Food? No, I'm hungry.

Okay, so the letter thing is less workable than I had hoped. What I mean is I am about to burst with all the pointless things I've wanted to say to the internet for about a month and half. Now that I have returned, I begin with a pointless bit of alliteration. Huzzah.

Anywho, hello again, internet. I've saved up a lot of verbal clutter. Be prepared.