July 6, 2008
Cherrie looked up from her book. Somehow today, ancient civilizations didn't captivate her like they always had. The air was dry but hot. Deep inside, the pit of her stomach revolted the scene that played with cinematic perfection in her head--Tom and Rachel were at lunch again. Rachel picked a fry from his plate, unsatisfied with the salad she chose. Their eyes met dreamily--the quiet combination of conquest and giving in. It wasn't their union that irked Cherrie so, although righteously, she knew it should be. Instead, it was her raging jealousy that initiated this perpetual cycle of self-loathing. She knew it wasn't right--her doctrine was sound--but the slinking misgivings haunted her whenever life stilled for a moment. Unable to slip back into the anonymity of the textbook's past, Cherrie wrestled today. She was coveting idols. From such an unsettled place, settling sounded so good.
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