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ISOLT It seems as though someone pissed on my parade;


Posted on April 26, 2014 by Harley Westward;
Residences

It was the weekend; people usually had plans to paint the town red? At least she did. Always without a care in the world and plenty of opportunities laid across in front of them, at their very feet. The truth of the matter was, Harley was getting older and responsibility was a burden that had begun to weigh down on both women. The city does not wait for no man (cliché as ever but so very true) and you better live the fragile life given to them, weighted lightly in the grand scheme of things. Just another worker ant living the grind.



The clock read 8:00pm, an annoying Felix the cat clock, mischievous eyes shifting back and forth along with its cane like tail, with a resounding and unyielding ticking sound, its shit eating grin alone was enough to drive you insane."Isolt!" She called a half-heartedly shout, her voice ringing through their home, hoping to find purchase on her companion's ears. Wherever they were located, not that the living quarters were massive or anything. She sighed, staring at crack in the ceiling, as her mind drifts. 'Shut up that fucking clock and throw it out for fucks sake.' She had wanted to yell but thought better of it. In truth she had grown fond of that blasphemous thing, in that fucked up way people love things that they supposedly hate.



"Isolt.. I feel old.. too damn old for my actual age. Do you ever feel like that?" She spoke out loud, unsure if her whining could even be heard from her position in the living room. Her body sprawled out pathetically, strewn across the plush lived-in couch like a rag doll, one leg dangled off the edge her other one with her knee up in the hair, vivid violet eyes staring up at the light above. It reflects almost hauntingly within their unique depths, like a ghostly light came from her eyes, or maybe even her very soul.



When she was sure she heard the padding of her roommate's feet against the creaky hardwood floor she continued. "Is this our life now?" she asked, "cooped up on weekends, working only to pay for the bills, letting our youth rot away in these old four walls. They have probably seen more action than I have." That was a lie, she rolled her eyes to look at her friend, scanning the room to find her familiar form. Her bestfriend, the one person who knew her best of all in this vile vomit-pit of a world, the one who she would very gladly put her life on the line for, a person actually worth living for. Maybe there was some kind of silver lining on this shit coloured cloud. "Next thing you know I will be following the rules. Isolt.. I even went to the fucking library.." She scoffs, throwing her other foot over, lifting her torso up from the couch, still sitting and expression sincerely disturbed as if everything she stood for was a lie.

HARLEY WESTWARD



↛ one part saint, two parts sinner ↛


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