Thread: i dunno what this is

started writing what was meant to be a short, funny story for the comic i drew for the bf. but then it got long and i haven't a clue what to do with it. read it if u want. might post the comic if i ever finish it. it actually has nothing to do with the story, except that eventually we're superheros. but this has taken on its own movement. i have no idea. anyways.

***

She balanced on the mental tightrope stretched across sanity and freedom. Knowing he'd be there to take her home, she embraced the unforgiving weather, spinning in circles on the street corner. He had a soft spot for her abrasive antics, which felt like a warm breeze in her circus act. Nodding to the beat and smiling sadly, she wouldn't fall; she never actually fell.

He sat on the fur covered couch in her apartment, sipping pbr. She stared at the cigarette cherry, rolling the filter over the writers callous on her middle finger. Unsure of what she'd been talking about for the past 20 minutes, she pressed the cherry to the end of another camel, and breathed another link in the chain.

"Hungry?"

"I could be."

"Wings?"

"Yes."

She had a habit of jumping off a conversational cliff and floating from topic to topic until suddenly succumbing to the gravity of silence. He smiled as he stood.

She watched him as he got up to dispose of the can. There was something very measured in the way he carried himself. He edited his movement and conversation, fitting right into a carefully crafted place in the world. She marveled at the perfection he embodied and felt balanced in his company.

Crow's mind worked at an exhausting pace. He worked for continuity, clarity, consistency. It felt good to construct columns of a completely uncontrollable world.

"You ever considered skydiving?"

"Sure."

"I'd like to try it."

"Me, too. But honestly, I think I'd get up there and chicken out."

"Yeah, but that's what the guides are for. They deal with that all the time."

"Hmm. I never thought of that."

Of course. How many people crave that crazy freedom, the fall. While she always tried to consider herself some whirlwind enigma, she knew better. Just like anyone else, she was terrified of really falling. The prospect was exciting enough, but when it comes to the jump, even she didn't have the balls to do it. Nowhere in the quagmire of her mind did she consider that someone else would be there to encourage it.

He'd dreamed of jumping for how long, he wasn't sure. It was one of those ideas that people are decidedly divided over, like how to cook a steak.

"You know how I'd like to die, if I could pick?"

"What?"

"If you could pick how you go. Ever thought about it?"

"Yeah, I guess... well, no, not really."

"Well I have. And I've figured it out. It would be epic."

"Oh yeah?"

He sat back down on the couch and watched as her eyes did the crazy light up, as though the bic in her mind was flicked and burning with manic psychosis.

"I'd take a shit-ton of drugs. Coke, ex, acid, and maybe heroin, cuz never done that one. I'd get all kinds of fucked up. And I'd go to sea world or maybe that spot off the coast in Cali where all the surfers are attacked; somewhere with a bunch of hungry sharks. And just as I'm peaking, I'd hurl myself into the water and the sharks would go crazy and eat me. Hopefully they're really hungry sharks."

She looked thoughtfully at the beer in her hand, and twisted the tab off.

"And hopefully I'm like 80. Those sharks would trip the fuck out."

He felt his mouth open, but couldn't construct a complete response. His mind raced around the image she'd painted.

"Well, it's not like I'd actually feel it, you know? That's the beauty of it. And it's cyclical. Lion King style, the circle of life, Elton."

"Hah, I guess so. That's pretty much the most fucked up thing I've heard in a while."

"Well, we should do this more often."

He searched his shoes for something to say. The brown leather sketchers held nary a response.

"So, food then?"

"Of course."

Cool Story Sprank! I edited it to clean up the html tags.

More More!!!