Success is Imminent
By: Summer Hamori
Note: I am not posting this for tips regarding my writing style.
Thank you.
Indigo waves rush through eroded rocks. The slicing points, piercing the surface like daggers to a fluid pulse, untouched by the flowing currents, are sharp and jagged around the edges. She sits in the dirt, her long sun-brown legs absorbing a cool promise of clarity; toes playing in the tide as guppies flock to them curiously, murmuring secrets against the uncovered flesh before gracing it with silver tails as they scatter onwards. Her eyes are portions of the sky, captured and collected for decoration.
He watches this, unconscious of his stare and unwilling to correct it - a khaki notebook upon his lap. In the corner, he sketches an outline of her silhouette. She gazes to the stars, seeing nothing. Lost in thought.
Spring mist signifies a memory sinking upon the municipality, under the rising moon, conquering the terrible hues of lilac and blue. She slips into the water without explanation – the burning, searing twinge and the tremor of muscles hopelessly quivering as her body is ravaged; as she collapses within the bearing, a face drown below the surface, where he can no longer see. And the fury is her maximum splendor.
A moving current cuts through the numbing river, the surface of which masks a concealed beauty: the deadly fruition of knowledge hidden within the head of a naked woman, ripping through the forgotten whispers of twilight.