The toughest prison to escape and the most contained estate, is not the penitentiary. It is not the secluded island or even the buried lock-box. Continue reading
I feel sick.
The pit of my stomach is bothered. It’s not the pills that anguish me. I think it’s the hills. The constant journey, up then down, makes my strength wane and brings me to the ground. For a moment I feel bold, but the next I’m frozen, not from fear, but from insensibility.
Living with sincere joy,
While preaching doubts that constant toy.
This style bifurcates as my train chugs on.
~!WAIT!~ Don't read this if you haven't read part 1, Jackson and Annabel: A Contrast and part 2, Jackson and Annabel: A Crash first. This is the conclusion of the three part installment of the hipster-romance between Jackson and Annabel.
Since we last left Jackson, he was still a self-absorbed millennial sponging off of his family and random girls for meals and attention. His dream girl, Annabel, was last seen peddling away, as he sat on the side of the road, clothes drenched with water and stained with grass.
Jackson was looking over the edge of the building to his right in the campus courtyard. His hazel eyes, fascinated with the contrast in the sharp angles of the building and the clear blue sky behind it. His half shaved blond hair rustled in the wind but not excessively because of the heaviness of not showering since the morning prior to this morning.