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Youths eyes oversee truth Captained by a world of hatred Too young yet too old A thin line of reality “To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music that words make.” Truman Capote

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Me and My Sister in 20 Years

Guess who is who?

She sat in front of her sipping the delicate foam from atop the café latte out of the round Starbucks cup. The French manicured hand flipped pages of the Georgia Straight in a frustrated manor. A sigh breached her painted lips.
“So, what have you been up to?” Her irritation swept through each word as her right hand slammed the paper closed.
She stuttered an answer forward. “I…well…you know. In my field it’s kinda slow sometimes.” She scrapped the back of her calf with her hiker.
The other nodded in agreement as she stared diligently at her sister. The small coffee steamed up onto her glasses fogging them adding to her unclean demeanour. A dirty flannel t-shirt slung over the back of the chair uncovered a bland white tank draping her too thin body.
They were the complete opposite.

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