A Living Cliche
2003-09-11 @ 11:35 p.m.

Leaves blown across a barren sidewalk, naked of passersby, naked of everyone but me.

This girl sitting on a bench, waiting for a bus to come and take her home, she merely wanted to go home. She sat uneasily, and jangled her keys in order to make a noise. You know, that noise, that annoying sound of keys striking against each other.

She needed this sound for assurance.

Clenching her jaw, she made a movement as if she were going to leave. Cliché, it seemed, this setting. Deserted streets, windblown leaves dancing past her ankles, she wanted to laugh. How many times had she seen this in the movies? How many times had she read this in books? Great, she thought to herself, I'm a cliché, a Living Cliché.

...and I wonder, what's wrong with that?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

This is the introduction to a "September 11th" essay I have to write about for English class, the rest is rather boring, but I like that part.


Listening to: The hissing of an angry cat

<<before - after>>

The Weather Underground - 2008-11-12
- - 2008-05-06
She knows I can read. - 2008-05-06
William Jacobson - 2008-05-02
Lost Boys - 2008-04-30

everything © Claudia (2003-2008)