JillianChan's profile

Like a fragile Oyster, the Black Velvet Box opens in The Girl's hands, the tables clinking and the plates scratching around them. Shards fall from The Girl's eyes as her gaze wafts up, catching the hollow stare of The Bear in their gossamer nets. In the air-conditioned nightmare of a funeral home, The Woman's hair is tied back in a tight bun, covered in netting. She wears her pine overcoat well. Too red lipstick on her lips, too red rouge on her cheeks, give her a street corner look. The Woma...

Like a fragile Oyster, the Black Velvet Box opens in The Girl's hands, the tables clinking and the plates scratching around them. Shards fall from The Girl's eyes as her gaze wafts up, catching the hollow stare of The Bear in their gossamer nets. In the air-conditioned nightmare of a funeral home, The Woman's hair is tied back in a tight bun, covered in netting. She wears her pine overcoat well. Too red lipstick on her lips, too red rouge on her cheeks, give her a street corner look. The Woma...

The flame of a matchstick revealed a pair of eyes in an eerie reflection. It flickered and a face appeared before the light suddenly vanished. Another scratch and a new glow returned, flowing over and illuminated the wide and lifeless eyes of a woman lying on the sandy floor. Suddenly light flooded the beachouse and a man could be seen, his tall frame crouched low beside the body. He reached up and brushed his hands shakily through his spiked black hair before standing to his feet. He reached...

The flame of a matchstick revealed a pair of eyes in an eerie reflection. It flickered and a face could be seen before the light suddenly vanished. Another strike of a match returned new glow that fell on a woman, her eyes wide and lifeless. Suddenly light flooded the room and a man could be seen, crouched low beside the body. The man reached up and brushed his hands through his spiked black hair before Standing up shakily. He reached into the pocket of loose fitting jeans and pulled his cell...

The Cookie The cookie looked like a peanut butter cup but I bit into it and it didn’t taste like one. There I was with peanut butter on my mind and there were no damn peanuts in the cookie, lots of toffee though, which is all right. I’m trying to find a deeper meaning but I think I should find something else to ponder; a flat toffee cookie doesn’t have any depth to it, real or imagined. I guess some people are like that too, but you don’t have to bite into them to find that out. They take bit...