( AN OPEN POST #2 )

[charmlessness]

 
 
 

you know the drill. pick your poison (not entirely limited to those listed). reply with a prompt in the form of a post, photo, song, text, voicemail, whatever your heart desires & receive a response. simple, right? right.

 
 
 

Comments

heeeey au

[ianotti]

( She doesn't remember Italy, though she gets bits and pieces. The rocky shores of a beach on the Mediterranean, the orange glow of a sunset over the hills, the smell of freshly sautéed olives and garlic.

Yet, Angela yearns for it. The languages falls off her tongue on accident, and she feels like a stranger in her own body; as though she's betrayed her family by not knowing anything about them anymore. She doesn't know how she got to the United States, how she came to be in Atlantic City.

She's made it her life work to find out exactly this.

The sky is grey and overcast, her skirts blow in the wind as the sand beneath her feet shifts with each step. Music is heard above her on the pier as children run around and give their parents a chore to chase them through crowds on the boardwalk.

Beneath the entertainment, the dancing and the singing, he waits for her, and Angela doesn't like to keep anybody waiting. They're alone, as he promised they would be, and she greets Alphonse Capone with a small nod of her head. Curls that are tucked securely beneath her hat fall around her face.

Underneath the thick fabric of her skirts hides a blade. Long and sharp, nestled up against her calf, secured in a sheath tucked into her sock. It never leaves her, and she keeps it a secret. )

I hope you didn't run into too much trouble to get here.