RoughEstimate

"Why do you keep touching those windowsills?"

She turned, quizzical, what a bizzare question.

"Windows are the eyes to the soul." She offered in nonchalance, brushing her fingers against the pane.

"You've got that backwards." His brows furrowed in confusion.

"What is this home made of, Jefferey?" She sighed, bouncing along to the next window.

"Plaster, sheetrock, wood-"
"Wood. ...

She's wrapped in these layers of clothing.
A laughing winter coat.
A sarcastic hoodie.
A pair of idiosyncratic gloves, multi-colored and eye appealing.
Her jeans are reinforced denim; she takes a lot of falls.
High, snug boots for when she needs to make a dash in the snow.
Her scarf is a mood ring, lucky the other garments sedate the senses with their volume.


It's so cold out, you know? She lets her eyes wander, the park is teeming with these ...

Oh buddy, this is envy.
The darkest, blackest hue of green.

Of the seven, I'd say vanity and envy comprise every single self-inflicted (as that's all they're capable of being..really) problem I have.
Pride's such a gradual incline that I can recognize its arrival and snuff it before it's a real issue.
Gluttony's reign over me has passed.
Sloth's never been a problem.
Anger and lust are so fleeting that I welcome them with jello shots and embrace them any ...

"They strapped bombs to their children's chests."

I couldn't help but cock my head at him, brows inclined.

"What would possess you to strap a bomb to your child's chest?"
I asked him.
"Nothing. All I'm saying is they're fucking crazy. They deserved everything our guys gave em'."
He set his sandwich down, casually.

"You can't think of a scenario where you'd send your child into open warfare, huh?" ...

FuckMeRunning.

Nope, that's it.
Give me some scissors and make sure it's downhill, let's give em' a show.

Maybe some rollerblades, an icecream in the other hand.
Put a parrot on my shoulder that only spews really upbeat,poetic shit.
An ankle biter is yipping somewhere, it's owner is shushing it.
An elderly couple see me zip past their porch followed by my laugh/cry mixture scream, they blame the parents and public school.


...