DeScribe

Okay, so this forum needs forum games. Most obvious one: write a collaborative story. A lot of forums play the "three words" game, where each new person adds three words at a time, but let's try to write something more cohesive, right?

Rules:
* Each time you post here, write four sentences of the story.
* Take it in any direction you like, but try to maintain a sense of narrative flow.
* This story is in first person, present tense - let's keep it there!

So I begin. Ahem.
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She doesn't seem to notice me as I slip out of bed. My feet, in couchy grey socks, make no sound as they touch the floor. Is she awake? Statue-still, I listen for hints in the rhythm of her breathing, subtle movements of her body under the covers.

She doesn't seem to notice me as I slip out of bed. My feet, in couchy grey socks, make no sound as they touch the floor. Is she awake? Statue-still, I listen for hints in the rhythm of her breathing, subtle movements of her body under the covers.

Her mouth is open just a little, the breath rushing dry over her lips. On the floor, her purse lies open amid a spray of coins, like the seeds of an overripe fruit fallen from a high branch. I grimaced even as this simile formed in my mind. None of the coins would ever sprout to grow anything; they would be spent like the rest.

She doesn't seem to notice me as I slip out of bed. My feet, in couchy grey socks, make no sound as they touch the floor. Is she awake? Statue-still, I listen for hints in the rhythm of her breathing, subtle movements of her body under the covers.

Her mouth is open just a little, the breath rushing dry over her lips. On the floor, her purse lies open amid a spray of coins, like the seeds of an overripe fruit fallen from a high branch. I grimaced even as this simile formed in my mind. None of the coins would ever sprout to grow anything; they would be spent like the rest.

Outside, the hustle and bustle of the city is slowly getting into full force, with the occasional honks of frustrated commuters already late for work breezing through the air. I check the digital clock by my bed: 9am. Still early. I slip back into bed, taking care not to wake her, and envelope her lovely frame in my arms.

She doesn't seem to notice me as I slip out of bed. My feet, in couchy grey socks, make no sound as they touch the floor. Is she awake? Statue-still, I listen for hints in the rhythm of her breathing, subtle movements of her body under the covers.

Her mouth is open just a little, the breath rushing dry over her lips. On the floor, her purse lies open amid a spray of coins, like the seeds of an overripe fruit fallen from a high branch. I grimaced even as this simile formed in my mind. None of the coins would ever sprout to grow anything; they would be spent like the rest.

Outside, the hustle and bustle of the city is slowly getting into full force, with the occasional honks of frustrated commuters already late for work breezing through the air. I check the digital clock by my bed: 9am. Still early. I slip back into bed, taking care not to wake her, and envelope her lovely frame in my arms.

She's so damned fragile. Why does she have to be so goddamned fragile? Each time I hold her I think again that I love her because she makes me feel strong. But I'm not strong.

She doesn't seem to notice me as I slip out of bed. My feet, in couchy grey socks, make no sound as they touch the floor. Is she awake? Statue-still, I listen for hints in the rhythm of her breathing, subtle movements of her body under the covers.

Her mouth is open just a little, the breath rushing dry over her lips. On the floor, her purse lies open amid a spray of coins, like the seeds of an overripe fruit fallen from a high branch. I grimaced even as this simile formed in my mind. None of the coins would ever sprout to grow anything; they would be spent like the rest.

Outside, the hustle and bustle of the city is slowly getting into full force, with the occasional honks of frustrated commuters already late for work breezing through the air. I check the digital clock by my bed: 9am. Still early. I slip back into bed, taking care not to wake her, and envelope her lovely frame in my arms.

She's so damned fragile. Why does she have to be so goddamned fragile? Each time I hold her I think again that I love her because she makes me feel strong. But I'm not strong.

I'm a coward. I saw an opportunity for gratification and took it at her expense. She seemed to handle the whole matter remarkably well. God, I hope she forgives me.

The past has a way of catching up with you and mine has been nipping at my heals like a tenacious cattle dog since we moved back here. It was awkward to acknowledge my embarrassingly school boyish behaviour but I had to do so before it all blew up in my face, or hers. My arms tighten involuntarily around her as I think about how I could have lost her and probably will anyway. I face the fact, she's not the forgiving kind.