From elizagirl
Alone now, the bitter dregs of coffee staining my tongue to cover the taste of unsaid words, I hunch my shoulders against the cold. I shuffle determinedly toward the hard, grey line of the horizon, my posture betraying no more than the steely resolve I intend. My mouth set in a grim line, my eyes dry, emotionless, flat. But my heart, o, fickle blood rose, traitor of an ever-pumping organ....my heart cries out for all to hear and judge...'CYBELE! CYBEEEEEELE!"