as she stared at the foggy and the welling eyes of the bus, inking blots of rainwater slowly occupied her gray pea coat as she listens to catie curtis’ troubled mind from her ears.
tears sprung up from her desert parched eyes as she wondered about the sudden recurring flashback of images and people from her distant past that seemed to haunt her over the past few days. she was pretty sure that it was not the exact memories of her past, for those buildings, those people, those things, those images, have long been gone, demolished, eradicated, forgotten. it must have been a glimpse of the alternate world, that parallel universe that many claimed to exist. but why?
she doesn’t have the slightest idea why. i don’t fucking know either.
in her dreams, in her daydreams, in her soliloquy, she was haunted by the ghosts of her distant past doing completely different things and acting weirder than they used to.
there is a tornado warning in their area. the clouds have gone emo and have been pouring all week. she knew she should’ve brought her huge umbrella to combat the rain but the fierce wind made her realize the futility of the matter.
she focused her stare at the flooded eyes of the bus that was constantly wiped by its twin blades. in a distance of a mile or so, she thought she saw an approaching tornado. lady gaga’s bad romance started to occupy her ears. she fixed her tangled hair to a bun and prepped herself, assuming the character of a lady dorothy soon to be delivered to the land of oz.