chamomilecourier
The morning air was crisp as my breath fanned out in a mist in front of me. I couldn't tell where I was, or what I was meant to be doing. But I figured that was the exact premise of Life anyways, so I continued moving towards nothing, the frozen grass crunching beneath my shoes.
A dozen thoughts grace her face at the same time, muddled together to form the indescribable look she gives me. She extends her hand, but I back away, not really sure what to believe, as I can tell she isn't quite sure herself.
The drops of rain fell so near, they just about mimicked the tears in her eyes. The only difference was that the slight buds of water held the promise of life while the tears were nothing but the empty regret that accompanies Death.
It was as if she had found the most meaningful discovery of all time. Everything fit into place, no loop-holes to be found, not one single flaw to be observed. Now, as she pressed her pen to the paper, it started to fade away. Slowly at first, then quicker and quicker until she realized she had absolutely nothing to begin with.
Dear Thylacine,
I regret to inform you that I cannot make it to your party. I have been struck down by some type of bird flu. It's quite comical, really. Along with the continuous coughing and aching throat, a great pair of wings has erupted from my shoulder blades! I haven't really tried to use them yet, as they are still fragile, but I was thinking of jumping over the Terminal Bridge downtown on Sunday to test them. Would you like to come join me? I'm sure it will be a spectacle to behold.
Best Wishes,
Heliocanth
She had taken her first step. Not physically, or mentally, but metaphorically. She was well on her way to finding who she was, and she knew for a fact that she didn't need anyone to hold her hand and lead the way. Of course she still had tethers tied to people, and flimsy bridges leading to others, but she was slowly taking her time breaking those down, and she knew what would come to be the ending would suit her new self just fine.
As she started to stumble over the piles of worn-out books, he reached for her hand, barely catching it within his own. She looked up, shock grazing her features, before pulling back. "You know, you didn't have to do that. I always catch myself."
"I know, and to be honest, I hate that. You shouldn't have to catch yourself, and although I'm here, you never let me do it for you."
I'll die before you, but I'll rise again. The pain will consume me, but the love will remain.
The corner was dark. Quite dark. Dark enough to gain it's own form, it's spirit. One that enveloped and engulfed the dejected feeling that spread from her body. This corner was her sanctuary and the Darkness her friend.
He stared at the unassuming spot on her shoulder blade, gently prodding it with his finger. "You know, this mole of yours is shaped like a crescent moon. It's quite beautiful."
She turned around, taking his hand in hers and dropping them in the space between them. "It's cancerous."
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