by Velvet de Larousse
originally published at 02:22PM on Friday, May 25, 2007

I ran with all the speed that genetics gifted me with. My curly red hair streamed behind me like a fiery banner and my emerald eyes were set on the goal: Jordan.
Jordan, my beautiful black-haired blue-eyed love. HIs hair was so soft and fun to run my fingers through, his pacific blue eyes that I could drown in by just looking in them. He was my favourite person ever, and he was about to have a gigantic peice of concrete fall on his head.
‘Jordan, watch out!’
I sprinted the last hundred yards or so and tackeled into him to the ground. A moment later, the really big peice of concrete fell right where Jordan was a second before.
‘Miya, what just happened?’
Oh crap. How was I supposed to explain that?
’ I saved you from a big peice of concrete smashing your head. I love you.’
‘Yeah, but how did you know that it was gonna smash my head?’
Oh shit.



  • Truth by Velvet de Larousse