Awesome. You rock! Yay, editor! Yay, author!

Yay, Allyson! Wowing your editor is what is known as a very good thing.
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Here's a triangle drabble. It's a little melodramatic, I think, but it is what it is.

Triangle

It’s the perfect shape for a cook – sink to stove to fridge. Efficient and orderly. No wasted steps.

My head has set itself up the same way. Despair to fury to determination, and back again.

Despair is the sink with the slow drip, never quite fixed, filling up the cups and bowls with dull water, ticking like a clock from hell. Fury—at my own choices, at my own despair—bakes in the hottest oven until the timer goes off. That’s when I take determination from the fridge, careful to use it before it thaws, grateful for its cold implacability.

(turns to show off pretty tag. Nice, huh?And I think it fits me , almost as well as him...except my audience is too small, but KO gets Buffista points for "smite", right?)

Here's mine: My narrator thinks about her cop.

I suppose it would have been a triangle, if Mary Beth had ever acknowledged me as other than the non-threatening friend of the family, or if I had been so used to being half of a pair that I felt entitled to having someone in my bed more often than every leap year. But it had been what it had been, a vacation, a respite, and I tried to not even stop in Fantasyland. I wasn’t going to buy him clothes, and get credit for his taste. “We” weren’t ever going to have a restaurant beyond that one scarred bar where it began. I was never going to debate hyphenating my name or picture a kid with my wild dark hair and his amazing hazel eyes. I just wasn’t. A person can’t be in a triangle if she’s in a cul-de sac.

That is cool, AmyLiz.

Those are both very nice. I especially like your closing line, erika.

Thanks...Chandleria seriously blessed that sentence.

I like both of those drabbles. Words pretty.

fandom

If we lived before, I would sit across a campfire as you created worlds with your words. Sparks from fire and your imagination would dance. You would lie about love, tragedy, and triumph. I would dream in the warmth.

We live now; you are miles away. I catch your images in my satellite's scoop, dream in the cold blue. Somewhere, faceless men in dark suits carry the current between us. We need them. They bring you to me and they bring me to corporations for you.

They make us a triangle and your stories are somehow farther from my heart.

Wow.

Wow. Um. That's magical, Liese, in its imagery and in the heart of its meaning.

Wow.

an off the cuff thing

"You know he really loves Cheryl," Steve tells me as we snuggle afterwards.

I sigh. "She's with Biro, though."

"And Biro only really loves himself."

"True. You said Jeannie dumped you again?"

"Yeah. She's chasing football players again."

"I'm sorry."

"She'll be back. I saw the way Cos made sure you saw him groping Marnie, the jerk."

"Cos was just for fun. Marnie really likes him, though, poor thing."

"Boy, she hates you."

"That's why she hits on Joe."

"Joe should forget about Cheryl and concentrate on you."

"You're sweet."

"Which is why you're in bed with me."

College was a triangle, but it was one only Steven Hawking could define.