Here are three new drabbles. Maybe you will enjoy them. Maybe you won't. Either way, here they are....
Took the car and the kids and the puppy and left. Said it would be better this way. Said it would all make sense later. It's later, and I don't. I blamed. And I blamed myself. I loved. I thought. Did too? This is the hardest thing I've ever. Think about it, okay? Try! I still love. I know. Better than. Know. Self. Don't want this. Not for me. Not for the kids. And not for. Care more than. Let on. Not only hurting me. Hurting others. And hurting. Come back. I need. I want. I love. I don't understand...
Five years ago, you would have never left here alive. When I found out what you did, when you had the guts – or should I say, the stupidity – to admit what you did, I'd have tracked you down, tied you up, beaten you to within an inch of your life, made you beg for mercy, then choked the life out of you anyway – because I could. And even if I'd let you live, if I'd shown such unmitigated mercy, you'd wish you were dead. Death would be less painful. But that's not who I am anymore. You see, I'm mellowing.
"OUT IN LEFT FIELD"
Coach didn't know what he was doing putting me out here. I'm a liability, not an asset. I have poor instincts, I'm not fast enough, I throw left-handed, and I get bored easily. This can only end in heartache. Or heartburn, as it were. Maybe if I prove my worth, do nothing when much is expected, fail when success is the only option, maybe then he'll see. That he made a mistake. (Not cutting me from the team was his first mistake.) I'll do my worst and reap the consequences. He'll have a gut feeling his gut feeling was wrong.