It was strange at first, walking around with the beaked mask over her head. Soon enough though it became a strange sort of comfort. She was unrecognizable now, not herself anymore. Just one of the plague doctors darting between patients in the city, angels of mercy – or death, depending on how you looked at it.
The disguise was disrespectful to them, perhaps, but it was also the only way into the quarantined part of the city. The only way to get to her brother, her twin.
She walked in with purpose, in an effort to look like she belonged. No one spared her a second glance, all too busy with either their own work or their own misery.
At last, after what seemed like hours, she found her brother, hidden in the basement of the biggest house in that part of the city.
She bent over him, eager to share what she feared to be his last moments. All she got were his last words: "It was me. It all began with me."
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Tiny Stories Part 2
ContoMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
