His limbs are just inches from her thighs at this verily moment. One of his arms, stretched out, voluntarily stroking her integument. Her peripheral vision, though shrouded with scum, is lit by his serene exhalations, his trepid pulsations. He handed her a leaf of yellow parchment, blood-red inks from top to bottom. "You always complete my day," he scribbled in capital letters. This sentence keeps ringing in her ears, but in this certain case, it keeps reverberating in her brain. She sighs with contentment. Everything is in vice versa. Everything between she and him.
Her bedlight is turned off and all she can see are small flickering lights illuminated from some electrical gizmos. She can hear the non-stop oscillation of her room's artificial air current. She senses him via her five senses. "I am being redundant. I am insane for you." Sleepy tears trickle down her cheeks, as it is time for her to twine into against his ribs. There will be a dandy atmosphere on the morrow. It is their sixty-ninth month, there's no chance for sorrow.
For a good sight, have a good night.
Author
Eяin Heяoin
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Proximity Matters
His limbs are just inches from her thighs at this verily moment. One of his arms, stretched out, voluntarily stroking her integument. Her peripheral vision, though shrouded with scum, is lit by his serene exhalations, his trepid pulsations. He handed her a leaf of yellow parchment, blood-red inks from top to bottom. "You always complete my day," he scribbled in capital letters. This sentence keeps ringing in her ears, but in this certain case, it keeps reverberating in her brain. She sighs with contentment. Everything is in vice versa. Everything between she and him.
Her bedlight is turned off and all she can see are small flickering lights illuminated from some electrical gizmos. She can hear the non-stop oscillation of her room's artificial air current. She senses him via her five senses. "I am being redundant. I am insane for you." Sleepy tears trickle down her cheeks, as it is time for her to twine into against his ribs. There will be a dandy atmosphere on the morrow. It is their sixty-ninth month, there's no chance for sorrow.
For a good sight, have a good night.
Her bedlight is turned off and all she can see are small flickering lights illuminated from some electrical gizmos. She can hear the non-stop oscillation of her room's artificial air current. She senses him via her five senses. "I am being redundant. I am insane for you." Sleepy tears trickle down her cheeks, as it is time for her to twine into against his ribs. There will be a dandy atmosphere on the morrow. It is their sixty-ninth month, there's no chance for sorrow.
For a good sight, have a good night.
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Born in the mid-80s, Erin Herøin is a marveller of non-sequitur writing, cinematic films, & analogue photography.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
