How Does She Breathe?

How does she breathe?

Her words run one into the next, over and under each other, never giving me a chance to respond. She never pauses. Never takes a breath. Never pulls in air.

I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t get a single word in. I have to listen to her every second of the day and I can say nothing.

I’ll get a word in now.

I’ll place my hands around her neck

and I’ll squeeze hard enough to stop the words

and with the words she never let me say I’ll ask her

How do you breathe.

Box

Such a pretty box. Wrapped up in gold, bound with a striped ribbon. So pretty I almost don’t want to unwrap it. It’s so big, but I can still hold it up and shake it gently. There’s a pleasing rattle. Something inside.

You tell me to open it.

I tear off the ribbon, rip the gold paper. Slice apart the bit of tape holding the lid shut with your knife. I open the box, look in.

But it’s so dark in there. I can’t see. I only see shadows. Black shadows and… something white.

You tell me to get inside.

A Book

It’s raining on us, the cover of our book soaked through. The fields outside the window are flooded and water runs down the walls. It’s alright though. Someone will find us.

The wind is blowing, flipping our pages back and forth, back and forth. We sway from side to side, unable to keep balance. A page tears, and we watch the earth crack. It’s okay. Someone will find us.

The snow is covering the pages. The words are fading. The fields outside are gone. The walls are vanishing to white. The others are lost.

I wait.

Someone will find me.

Pen

He gave me a pen. I thought it would give me stories and pictures. But not these kinds of stories or pictures. I don’t mean to write these things. I don’t mean to draw these things. These are not mine.

They are the pen’s.

Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t me. These words, these creatures. I try to use the pen and it does this. It comes from the pen, seeping out from the tip in red ink. He put these things in the pen.

This ink and his blood, it’s one and the same.

I’ll show you.

The Snow

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

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Drabble

Don’t go out in the snow. It’s crimson and viscous. Not at all like it used to be. Once it was pure white and like dust, like sugar coating the landscape.

Don’t go out in the snow. It’s thick and it grips feet and legs. Once it was calm. Once we used to walk through it.

We used to throw it and kick it in the air.

We used to never care that it might fall on our heads.

Don’t turn your face to the snow. Don’t let it settle in your eyes.

It isn’t like it used to be.

The Apothecary

This is the last one from the list!  And this one was hard to come up with, probably only because it was the last.  As for other things, I’m working on rewriting some short stories that are part of a series, so I still might not be posting quite so much.

Drabble

He held the tiny paper package out to her, and his leather mask slithered and roiled, as if something crawled beneath it. “This is the poultice for Midwife Bera.”

Though his hands were gloved Alisandra still felt her heart flutter when his fingers touched hers.

“Are you ill?” he asked. “Your face is flushed. I can prepare you something.”

“No!” Her cheeks grew hotter as she smiled at his kindness, always his kindness. “I’m fine.”

She sighed when the door closed behind her. How stupid to fall in love with someone who would never show you their face.

Lost and Found

Found: lost soul. Appears ancient, but in actuality quite young. Wispy and dreamy. Blue and gold. Was found near bus stop in Georgetown.

Sarah looked up from her laptop, out the window at the drizzling rain. The fog it made on the window brought those words back to her mind: Wispy and dreamy. Blue and gold. She had lost her soul so long ago, but this one sounded like hers.

But it couldn’t be hers. Search as she did through the classifieds, no lost and found column could describe her soul.

Her soul was dead.

You just know these things.

United

I’m ready.

The mask is drawn over my face and head, as it’s drawn over yours.

Soon we’ll be one mind, united. I’ve been waiting for this day ever since the day I first met you. I’ll be every part of you from this moment on, and you’ll be every part of me, one mind in two bodies.

It begins, and I see your inner thoughts. They are… Ugly. Hideous. Spiteful. Hateful. You don’t even love me; you just saw this as a means to an end.

Oh God.

I can see all of you.

And you’re in me now.

What’s Left

His joints squeaked as he pushed and pulled through the hallway. The gravity had been the first thing to go, but he had no problems moving in zero. The humans getting used to it had quit being a problem when the life support gave out.

He turned a corner, his elbow creaking. He passed through the doorway into the observation deck. There was nothing new to see. The station’s position was the same, dead in the water.

But he still enjoyed the view.

He reached the window, and everything squealed as he settled. The oil supply was gone now too.