I used to live in a wonderful world but it's changed so much. The fairies that I used to know shed their glamours like water and oil, quick and smooth, no trouble at all. Their faces constricted and ballooned, peeled and took new shape. They shed their skin and wings, so delicate and pink, to reveal their gross and revolting inner selves, and reached out to touch my face with the bloody bones of their fingertips, staining my cheeks which in turn bled like pomegranate seeds stripped of their flesh, for I am an adaptive creature at heart, slipping so easily into a new part, like water on oil in this world of unsolved hardness.
YOU ARE READING
Open Hearts
General FictionDo you know what it is that which we feel? Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps. It's all just thoughts in my (your) head.
