Emma Marie Colt, an average lass of eighteen years, with bottle green eyes and hair like fire.
Why is it that this girl among the hundreds you see every day catches your eye? It's her big green eyes that appear to look straight into your soul when she glances at you from her seat on the subway. It's the way that she has an aura of loss surrounding her, even when she decides to show her bright smile. It's the way that when she looks away from you, you feel like you can breathe again, free of her crippling gaze.

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I felt that I should let you know what's going on here. I recently discovered drabbles and I've fallen in love with them. They are in no certain order, I'm not using a list; I'm just writing these down as they come to me. If you want to know more about them and the inspiration behind them, PM me and I'll get back to you ASAP. Thanks! :)

The brush fell from her hand smearing pain across the nearly finished masterpiece on the canvas before her. The intense pain spread from her shoulder to her fingertips and back again.
She sighed.
She retrieved her brush and her pallet and began her work again, touching up her art and erasing the painful memory of the red that had been smeared. She was becoming used to these infrequent spasms. She knew she shouldn’t exert herself but she had to finish it. The determination to finish her one last masterpiece was enough to help her fight through the pain and continue.

A moment of fear leads to irrational reactions. He looked down at his hands covered in blood and began to wipe them off on his old, worn out jeans. He knew what he had done. He could connect one thing to another. The groaning figure lying on the ground, the blood on his hands. He just didn’t remember doing it, or even why he did it. He looked down at the figure and began to kneel down to get a closer look, but a voice inside his head was screaming at time to stop. Begging him, pleading him not to.

Enter stage right and walk into the spotlight. Allow the audience to take in your radiance for a moment then begin your performance. Over react and use lots of hand gestures to hide your lack of talent. You know they can’t tell anyways. Pause for a brief moment as you forget your lines. Improvise. Use large words that sound impressive. Blush when the audience laughs because you mispronounce electoral. Why you’re talking about it, you don’t know, but it sounded right. Eventually you have made so many mistakes you’re removed from the stage and hopefully the rest of the performance.

Hi Kikotia, I see you've been away for a while. I just wanted to let you know that I love your first drabble! You definitely have talent!