Exhaustion « Thread Started on Jun 28, 2007, 6:37pm »
Emmy rocked back and forth gently on one of the abandoned swings. She imagined a pack of small children chasing each other, innocently engaging in meaningless activities with no care to the contrary. She swept the brown, peeling rust from her palm.
One corner of her mouth turned upwards, thinking of her independent past. She longed for the warm hostility of her old body guard, Morris.
Emmy used to snap her fingers and receive endless comforts. Now even the simple act of snapping her fingers was tiresome and painful.
Her father's desk was murder to sleep on, and rubbing her shoulder fruitlessly, she reminisced about the amazing hands of Alberto and longed for a massage.
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