Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Haiku 100- It's different

She opened her new black leather journal. A fresh pad of lined paper gleamed with chemical clarity. She stared at her unmoving hand . When the lanky headboy had done it, it had hurt. A lot. She took to the track field while he busied himself spreading vicious untruths.

She had run back to the track field that morning. The red clay lay clean like blackboard on first day of school. The white lines stretched all around. In the distance lay the 200 m mark. She began to sob on her first step.

Then she'd only felt broken. Now she was.

1 comment:

Affairs said...

hehe! Liked the untruths mention :-)