I was going to save this as a Microsoft Word document, but I felt compelled to put it on the internet. I wonder why. It’s probably easier, seeing as I wouldn’t be able to decide if it’s an extremely short story, or just free verse poetry. Ah well. Frustration.
The boy closed his eyes and his eyelids fluttered as he did, the vestiges of a great inner battle. He gritted his teeth, his breathing growing ragged until he screamed and forced his eyes open, clenching his fists and finally settling for clasping his shirt and ripping it open. He screamed again, the ululation piercing the dusk’s quiet mask. His screamed turned from frustration to agony as he continued, panting heavily as tears flowed down his eyes and dropped unnoticed to the ground.
He drew in a great breath, clenched his teeth shut and screamed "DAMN YOU!" to the night. It replied with the hoot of an owl, and the chirp of a cricket.

One thought on ““Frustration”

  1. Unknown says:

    Ooh, nice. I wonder what he’s frustrated about. I like the imagery, especially the personification of the night. It highlights the inner turmoil by suggesting an external fight with the night itself. The actions remind me of how I feel like acting when I’m frustrated: tearing something and screaming. Very nice. Hope there’s more.

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