Her heart was gone, it crashed in on waves that tore themselves apart. The store of things, drowned out by other influences. She looked at the jar again. The white body lying in a hundred pieces. The last fade of work where she had been. Dismembered. She could not move,- reality struck and spun as her mind flashed and fell inside. The hours, the effort, the will. Everything splintered in that fractured body, that now impossible seep upon the floor. The whole where she had been, Her best and truest effort, She tried to gather, to move soemthing, anything, to meet the moment of her fears, but everything clung tiredly. She was rigid, the floor held the pieces, and she was impaled upon the loss, already weary from the fight the despair and the effort that it would take to make it rise again. MB.
No comments:
Post a Comment