{x}
interpret the eyes as they die
should i cry should i love
your poor lashes blow
victim of sensory love
you cry over my
an innocent call
silent call for youwhat have I done to you
kill and run, kill and run
I’m one of the dirty guns
kill and run, kill and run
a bullet through your heart
In no time at all, the crackers are pounded into crumbs, and moves to place the small bowl of butter in the microwave, setting it for ten seconds for the butter to melt. “I’m zoning my major on Expressionist Art. I’ve always liked the style since I first read about Van Gogh.” Annie takes another bowl, bigger, and dumps the crumbs in the bowl, and just as the microwave sounds off the completion of ten seconds, she yanks open the door, and takes the butter, dumping it in the bowl and mixing it like so.
Kathy leans against the table for a moment, watching Annie. She doesn’t want to get too involved in the preparation of the dessert, knowing full well that it would mean more if Annie herself did the majority of the work and then presented the masterpiece to Alec. “He’s good, isn’t he?” Kathy smiles. “I’ve always liked Monet just a bit more, though. His use of colour is absolutely brilliant. And Picasso, too, of course. But that goes without saying.”
Annie nods, suddenly feeling a great deal of pride in doing this. She made things before for Alec, and they’ve tasted none too well, but with a watchful eye and less of a hand, she feels she can do a decent dessert finally. “Oh, Monet’s good too, and Picasso. But I really like Van Gogh’s story. Working so hard to prove himself, secluded hours on end with his tools?” It reminds me of someone else I know, Annie though with a warm smile as she slid in the crumb and butter mixture into the cake pan. In fact, the cheesecake in question is for him.







