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Drabbles in Threes I
By pdt_bear


I. 200 words total; 161 words inside the prompts

It was here I first saw you, behind these bars, drowning in the poison of your dreams. As if the truth of reality could be as easily denied by dismissal, the balance between the professional and personal life was soon becoming a precariously lopsided event. One where success in the work day did not translate to acceptance and celebration once night crept in like an unfaithful lover. Yet the refusal to submit and surrender to this curiously tender affection meant an even more vigorous effort at rooting out this tendril of unwanted emotion. As if something could be ripped out by the roots and discarded like so much detritus.

In hindsight, it is so much easier to point to all the moments where roads diverged and who could imagine a different path taken. One where I might have chosen not to leave, to not offer my sympathy on the upheaval in your life. Yet I could not forget a single moment. Make my decisions and own them I did. Even if my regret was deep and the sorrow real, you were locked in a fear that soaked your face, your hands, your thoughts: I didn't even have time to love you.

II. 195 words total; 170 words inside the prompts

Words aren't always simple when they have to embrace the consequences of life. Words and their partner -- actions, were never the black and white that anyone might have wanted to believe. Things left unsaid or undone often spoke more eloquently than any sonnet from a sixteenth century bard or a thirteenth century poet. It was an endless struggle to forgo the tangibles and actually not follow through with what so many were expecting to see: a blacklisting of this impudent second assistant that had had the gumption to walk away from her in Paris. Yet at the same time, she could not find it in herself to fault Andrea -- both women had made their respective decisions and would each have to live with all the consequences, intended or not.

She would deal with Stephen by excising him from her life with a neat signature; and Nigel? Nigel would have to wait a little bit longer before he could flex his power and ideas. For once, she would show mercy. Mercy over the actions of another, even if they did cut her deeply. All things scream silently, she thought: We are a God in ruin.

III. 152 words total; 129 words inside the prompts

In the vague shadows of a growing intimacy, night arrived. Conversation diminished and a comfortable silence crept in unnoticed. There was no real urgency to shift away from each other -- the knowledge of their presence was enough, and mild shivers communicated more deeply than any number of words. Fingertips traced another story on a pale landscape that was languorous and shifting all the time. A restlessness that spoke more of an unrelenting energy that roiled and sought release more anything else.

Even though it would take just as many days to get to this point of balance for the both of them to recognize the unspoken bond that existed; every time they'd sought to sever the thread, something had pulled them back into each other's orbit. Their bodies recognized the inherent truth even as their minds rebelled against it. The memory of you whispered against my lips: even my soul is wet.

The End

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