Piece of script

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Not dated but between 2015-spring 2016

Submitted: October 28, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 28, 2016



I hear the phone dial. *ring* *ring* I press redial automatically. I somtiems wish I won't hear a voice on the other end. It's been a constant cycle we both have grown into. Only changes when the tension causes sparks and one of us burns alive. We're always burning just numb to it.

When flames touch a bone or nerve we awake, no longer statues. 

We either try to burn the other just as badly or we crumble in a ball and lick our own wounds hoping to cool some of the charred flesh. 

Either hot as fire or cold as stone.

No in between. I'm locked to you. sealed to you. our minds our pressed

I don't move with my feet planted in the ground I sometimes move from side to side but only for fear I'll break in half I return to standing still.

We aren't moving 

Such a curious thing, standing still while the world does its turns.

Fix one thing and more fall down. Too alike

the phone continues to ring

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