Five Sentence Fiction: Composure

There was no way of knowing whether her comments had the desired affect upon him; his cool gaze lingered just above her right shoulder; a trait he developed as an awkward teen that seemed to carry forth into adulthood.

Her eyes, on the other hand, centered themselves on his pale yet so perfect lips, hoping for the barest of twitch to signal that he was listening, absorbing her rather sudden admission of undying love.

It was rather foolish of her to spew a confession so unrehearsed and the silence left her feeling naked and dirty in a way that confused yet excited her.

The words hung like a comical speech balloon in the space above her head and faded in and out like a firefly trapped in a mason jar; put on display for the neighborhood children to tap their sticky fingers against the glass.

Inside she was screaming for him to acknowledge her; she wondered what his insides sounded like.

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