unkindloving
Her face felt weak, which was interesting enough as far as faces go. Usually they could feel numb, as if there was winter nipping at one's cheeks. This was not one of those cases. She was happy, eternally so, yet every muscle and lacking ounce of effort weighed her wrinkled skin down with the gravity of her age.
Her eyes gleamed at the very sight of the sparkling orb before her. Shora had finally found the salvation she had been yearning for throughout her century in the afterlife. In a desolate desert of post-death, it had finally revealed itself to her. She knew that her journey had been long already, but that it had really only just begun.
In the strange comfort of the basement, she twiddled her thumbs and gazed up at the ceiling. It was strewn with chains and hooks on all of the outermost edges. She sighed deeply before beginning to ponder why she found comfort in this. A man's scream echoed through the back of her mind before she focused back on her task at hand. Taking a deep breath, she put her protective mask back on.
She took a step forward, her lip slowly bitten in hesitation. She hadn't seen a man such as this before, and she certainly couldn't find a thought in her head about what to actually do with one such as he. All she could do was step gently nearer to him.
I was walking in a flower patch recently. It wasn't your ordinary, everyday flower patch, per se. There was something a bit more mystical about it, although you would think that flower patches are very much the same in that way. However, the lillies were in full bloom, and a sort of iridescent dust floated amongst them.
There was a body in the trunk of the '57 chevy oldsmobile. You can't make trunks as solid as those, you know. That's the irrelevant part. The body belonged to a woman, a 25 year old woman named Sandra. She liked to take walks at night. Little did she know it where it would land her.
One day I was on a bridge, when there was a hefty accident that resembled a stream of other incidents. Soon after, everyone died in a specific order. Do you see how terrible this is? My soul would cry, and it could, especially as I am dead now. Along with everyone else.
Tears. Cry. Le sads. Baw.
My soul