She floated towards me like a party balloon.
Her skin tanned and tips of her hair bleached blonde from the sun.
Her skin smooth as spring water.
Mine, the texture of fresh orange juice.
She was nostalgic yet shiny and youthful.
Her face became clearer as she approached me.
My body tightened.
I wanted to run in shame,
I wanted to bleach my mind,
But my body stood still like a wooden doll.
Her face was twisted in a snarl
full of disgust and grief.
She turned her floating to running.
Soon her body was inches from mine.
And when she was gone,
my hands dripped.
Her face pale.
Something crawled up my throat
But it wouldn't come out
So I stood over her
Hollow.
