Another Word For Blurred Novels & Stories

“That’s Giorgio?” The figure outside shifts again. The face is so very much blurry, like I was looking through shattered glass. “Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes. My head is pounding, and the blurry face is making it worse. Why the hell does his face look like that? It’s fucking blurry. It's my eyes. Faces are usually blurry, making it difficult for me to recognize them but… but this is worse than before. “What the hell has come upon you, son?” I don’t answer.

I blinked away misty eyes. In another life maybe.

My fingers twitched, and the vocabulary list slipped through them. As I stared at the blurry words, my lips moved ever so slightly. "Aberration… which means a departure from what is normal… Ameliorate… which means to improve a bad situation…" I kept at it, going through all the words on the list, wondering to myself, "Are you hearing this, Mom?"

The bag waits with more composure than I can stand, more composure than I can hold. The words blur and bend and blur again, blur like my thoughts, blur like my pulse, blur like the parts of me I don’t want to face. They are old words, older than me, older than what I know, older than I can take, older than I can breathe. They are supposed to make this easier, easier than it is, easier than it should be. But they don’t. They don’t.

They blurred. Softened. Shifted so gradually you almost didn’t notice— Until one day, you realized you were already standing on the other side. And you couldn’t remember exactly when you crossed.

The screen is blurry, and I activate the cleaner to wipe off the whole mess from the windscreen of the car. I start my car, not minding the millions of eyes on me. People at the venue are waiting for the rain to subside before they head home. The clouds grow darker, and I figure I have to leave quickly or it might get messier. I shut the car door and slowly zoom off. The soothing sound of the rain on the glass is loud, but the car blurs the sound, making it seem like it’s far. I drive home slower and slower. Entering the driveways that lead to the mansion, I catch sight of someone on a bike. It’s blurry at first, and I’m highly intoxicated, so I try as much as possible to steer clear of the

My head was throbbing in pain and my sight seemed blurred but I tried to focus. A gasp escaped my lips as I muttered, “No, this cannot be true”

My vision blurred at the edges, the garden lights swirling into hazy streaks. “No…” I mumbled against the cloth, my voice muffled and fading. “Please… my babies…” The world tilted. My knees buckled. Everything went black.

Her blue eyes softly focused on me and she spoke, "Are you alright?" Her small, sharp voice made my headache worse, and I had to clutch my head, thinking it could ease the pain, but it didn’t. I knew something was wrong because when I tried to remember every detail of what happened last night, all I saw were blurry faces. My ears could only remember her voice reverberating in my head, and parts of my memories got lost. I was like a newly painted canvas that was splashed with black paint, ruining the whole picture.

I muttered under my breath as mom shook my shoulder. "Dear?" Ah, now I understand why my vision is blurry. It's because my tears are flowing profusely right now…