Short Piece 1: Erasure

The gray-sometimes-blue eyes gazed at the flickering computer screen. The hands with the red-white-and-blue acrylic nails rested gently on the keyboard. The soft pink lips rested softly pressed together in a thin line that betrayed a feeling of immense frustration. Then, suddenly, the hands with the red-white-and-blue acrylic nails started moving rapidly across the keyboard, furiously trying to convey any form of emotion. But they just ended up moving to the key in the upper-right corner of the letters, holding it until all progress disappeared. The hands moved to the mouse, shifting the cursor to a screen on the right, then clicking on it. A list of names, constantly in a flux. The eyes stared at one name, while the lips pressed together even harder. The hands, shaking, clicked on the name, and a new screen appeared. Slowly, they began to type. "Hi, how are you? I'm fine." They began to type words without thinking. "I don't know how I can say this, but I love you." The hands studdenly stopped typing, erasing evidence of that line. The lips let out a sigh, and the eyes closed. For the hands, eyes, and lips were too afraid to betray how they felt, due to the possibility that their emotion may not be justified, or entitled for a return. Life didn't work that way, not for the hands, lips, and eyes. They were forever destined to float in a lonely galaxy, moving slowly and painfully along until they withered away.

The screen suddenly flickered. "I love you."

The eyes became larger.


But then realized that it was nothing more than failure to erase the previous words.