ames_plaza's profile

I'm a writer, what's your excuse?

Eat words not food- anorexic writer.

I WILL quit my day job.

Between heaving and gasping for air, Caroline tried desperately to be sweet and nostalgic. “Remember that song you wrote for me?” She had to stop halfway through this sentence to spill more of her stomach’s contents onto my deck. I didn’t answer her question, smoking another cigarette, coolly. “You don’t remember, Harry?” Jessie took another cigarette from my practically empty pack but I was too disgusted at the corpse-like whore in front of me to care. “It was called time something… time… I ...

Desperate attempts are for desperate people, I told myself, and I am not desperate. No. I’m not. I can’t be. That’s just impossible. My phone was vibrating on the dresser across the room and I knew Caroline was calling me drunk from the party she'd invited me to a week ago. I told her I had better plans. Her calls reflected her disbelief. My staying home reflected my lie. Even staying home was better than being with Caroline, the self-destructing idiot who never seemed to disappear completel...