More than 100, but I couldn't trim it anymore and still like it. (original) (raw)

“Somewhere Over The Rainbow” echoes in my head as I sit in the warm, comfortable coffee shop, sizing up my personal rainbow in the form of my text books. The classic metaphor of Dorothy’s rainbow takes hold of my literary senses and forces me to scribe my reflections. Some of us lazily gaze up at their rainbow’s majesty, dreaming one day to cross its expansive arch. Others make plans and draw up diagrams as to the best way to make the endeavor, but never actually start the journey. Others climb the slippery hues, determined to see what lies on the other side of this rainbow, and the countless others that lie beyond it.

The problem lies in knowing when. When to climb, when to plan, and even when to just dream. What time is it for you?

“What now?” She says, staring into his dark eyes, longing to catch the same swelling of incredible lust in them, as she was sure her own had given…

The man lies alone in the darkness, staring in the direction of the ceiling. There isn’t enough light for him to make anything out, but his eyes are…

Our protagonist lay sleeping on the daybed, having thought he clearly outfoxed his fellows by stealing their weapon bucks. He slept there as his…