I was inspired by something fellow Protagonize moderator Elorithryn said on my random CD prompt post over there: "Last lines are hard too you know."
So today's prompt is to take the first line of a random song and use it as the last line in your poetry or prose. The borrowed line in italics so we can all spot it easily, and the usual credit where it's due applies.
Kat and I planted our garlic for next year this morning. We were able to use some of the bulbs that came up this summer (we saved the rest for winter use), so we didn't need to order more seed. Hopefully we can do more of that as the years go on, as it certainly saved quite a bit of money.
Scared - The Tragically Hip
She is fearless. You can see it in the way she moves. No hesitation, no second guessing, no looking back. She seems convinced of her invincibility, her immortality.
I watch as she hugs and kisses her friends goodnight before heading for the door. Finishing my beer, I slap a ten on the bar and follow in her lavender scented wake. It's cold outside and the wind is picking up. For a moment I'm worried she'll decide to take a cab, but I shouldn't have bothered.
Why would she be afraid of winter's frigid touch? I bet she considers shivering a sign of weakness.
Her pink boots leave modest prints in the recently fallen snow. They're difficult to track at first, but soon she's traveling on quiet side streets whose sidewalks only bear the marks of bird feet. Not that I need her tracks in order to see where she's gone.
Why would I need to keep my distance when she never looks back?
At last she reaches her apartment building and fishes her keys out of her slender purse. As the door begins to close behind her I grab it and follow her inside. She presses the button for the elevator as I wait a few feet away. When it arrives we step in and she taps the number three before finally noticing my presence.
She's surprised but not frightened.
"I can make you scared," I tell her as I pull the knife out of my pocket. "If you want me to."