writeaboutlife
She definitely went to his college. Definitely, she looked so familiar. She was paradisiacal, dancing away, carelessly like some quixotic version of real life. She dressed divinely, her skirt, just to the right seductive length, her high-he…
Punctured bicycle, on a hillside, desolate! “ He sings, at the top of his voice bellowing into the cool night air. This is the sound of drunken youth, hastily staggering along the sparkling northern streets. The night’s still clinging on…
Youth is like a beautiful sunset. Fleeting, paradisical, and hopelessly romantic.
The sun smoulders all afternoon untill an enveloping, almost mystical, orange glaze perforates every inch of the sky to the south. it streaks and entwines with dashes of purple and red like an artists pallet trying to capture the perfect s…