338. Word of the Day:
Today I was asked to find a random word and use it in my writing so I went here to generate a word.
My word… Femme fatale.
She was a femme fatale, plain and simple.
Her with the short, curly, wild hair and the flashing sometimes green, sometimes brown eyes.
I had never felt this way about anyone and my absolute control for everything was no longer working for me.
Like a siren I was called to her and no matter how much I tried to deny that I felt something for her, the stronger I felt her pull.
I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat and my daily hikes had become runs through the mountains.
I found myself consumed with passion for her and more than once I had groaned out loud trying to ignore it.
I looked a wreck and my fellow workers had started to notice. My hair was losing its lustre and my shirt was always dishevelled, my buttons askew.
What was I to do?
She wouldn’t talk to me, let alone look at me anymore. I knew that was my own fault for what I’d done to her but I was hoping beyond hope that she would eventually forgive me.
The silence was heavy. I could feel it weighing me down and I was powerless against it.
I had stuffed everything up. Now I had nothing and I suddenly realised she had been right all along.
No women had ever been this strong. She was stronger than me and much smarter than I would ever be. She had options while I had none. I had successfully isolated myself from everyone and now I was more lonely than I’d ever been.
What was I going to do?