PYGMÉESTYLE

Ska strax iväg på det där manusseminariet. Spännande att höra hur ens manus uppfattats och vad man kan förbättra, helt klart nervöst. Tänkte att ni kunde få läsa en kort sak jag skrev för nåt år sen.

Honey colored walls meet the deep green tiles on the floor, where my feet rest at the moment. You walk over, hiding behind you Ray-ban Wayfarer shades as usual, as if nothing has changed since I last saw you.
'Honey, come on give me the pills'. You say.
I look at you and I have changed.
'Come on give me the pills'. You say again.
'No.' that is my answer.
'Honey, give me the pills, and your love.'
I turn away from you and you grab my arm. Your grip is tightening and I come to think of how the blue color will adorn my arm today when I wake up. I wish I wore your thick black leather jacket, but I don?t. I try to walk. But how could I when you hold me, not out of love but out of strength. My high heels slip on the rough floor. The edge of my dress softly touches the cold tiles before you pull me up. I can see the one you hate in your Ray-bans. You look at her too. You let go of my arm and your hand hits my face. Hard. I stumble and I fall. Your loved one hits the floor hard and smashes into a thousand pieces, as does your heart. You rage, but I no longer care. I can see the little pills scattered amongst the brown glass, amongst something that once held your love together and kept it safe. I can see them before you close my eyes.