(no subject)

In today's news, I found love again. It appeared in the form of a raspberry swirl ice cream cone with the ice cream part sculpted to look like his face. I kissed the lips that were paler than they should be, but still perfectly shaped. He smiled when he saw me.

I dosed myself with a foul-tasting mixture of lemons, vanilla, and cinnamon. All together lemons and vanilla and cinnamon taste like dirt and leaves, and it burned on the way down.

The body of the cat is looking at me and meowing to be fed. She hasn't quite realized she's dead yet but she's rotting from the ears down.

I have a hole in my pocket.

Today I found my courting gift came with pretty words and strange encumberences. It's dark and bloody and beautiful and rotten at the core but it tastes very sweet. And it has a message written on it. From your lips to mine. I don't think it's what you were expecting, though. I wish I knew what you think you know. You're so thin. Turn you sideways and slip right through.

Is that enough for you, yet?


Brought to you by Fall Down The Rabbit Hole day. Nothing means anything.

BDL #59 - Labyrinth

Title: The Real World
Fandom: Labyrinth
Characters: Sarah and Jareth
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG
Summary: College isn't exactly the real world, but it's still too Real for Sarah.



Years later the magic age wasn’t fifteen but twenty one, and she had celebrated her birthday with a bottle of wine and a gazebo lost to the depths of the college campus. She had only gone to college, she felt, because it was expected of her. All that knowledge gained and here she was still doing what was expected.

Sarah took another drink from the bottle and felt decadent. She swigged it, because she could and because it made her feel like some sort of bohemian artiste in a movie suffering in the throes of angst for some as-yet undiscovered purpose. Fantasy was becoming infinitely better than her dull reality, and while she knew that wasn’t the least bit uncommon she wanted to be special. She had been special, once. Maybe that was what differentiated her from all the other spoiled young men and women out there who wanted to be the only one in the world who could do, or say, or be one thing.

( 'You had the chance...' )