epilogue:

 

and she'd said, 'don't you forget about me.' i keep my promises.

this is the after-story
of (ellipsis).

out of the confusion, consequence. she chose another path. so now, now i need a place to put all the memories she asked me to make.

favourite excerpt dates
or go back to daily view
or read the origin

(by a girl called Mayday)
e: callhermayday(at)gmail

Creative Commons License
© 2009 (ellipsis)

September 3

i will remember her:

sleeping beside me, i was at her back nearly always, one arm around her waist and she’d hold it. i kissed novels into her neck, her shoulders. she liked to run her feet down my ankles to meet my toes, testing out the length of us. she smelled like orchids and sour mix and fresh laundry. in her sleep she made hushes of noises, a language i loved but could not speak, so instead i’d trace the line of her spine with my lips.