by Steppen Sawicki
Be aware this one involves cutting.
Drabble: I don’t know why do I write these
She set the flat of the blade against her skin, expecting to feel it cool and smooth and ready. She felt nothing, but that wasn’t too surprising. She felt nothing at all today. Isn’t that what this was for?
She turned it until the edge caught the light and the tip cut into her flesh, hoping to see the blood well in droplets turning to rivers. Nothing came out. That wasn’t surprising either.
She dropped the knife and reached into the mark it had made. She pulled out the wires, slick with oil. That wasn’t surprising. Nothing was surprising anymore.