Prologue
Quietly she looks at him, her eyes filled with something burning. It was like there was a fire, and behind that fire a heated furnace to prevent the cold. He stared back like she was his air, the very thing that kept him breathing.
I took a breath and from where I stood, I saw their fingers touch and felt mine burn. I closed my eyes and they closed theirs.
Silently the door shut with a soft click and in my mind I was on the other side, right there with them, breathing it all in.
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To Coan,
It's been a while. I was listening to some old records the other day and I was reminded of you.
I hope you don't mind I wrote because I was remembering it all again, as if it was just yesterday, like just a turn of a page ago. I'll open my eyes and you'll be sitting there like any other day, playing guitar or something.
I've been wondering these days if you are well.
Are you happy someplace? With someone?
Or are you still part of that mess, still drowning there?
I miss you.
- Mila
YOU ARE READING
taping eggshells
Короткий рассказ- - - > He was like poison, slowly seeping into my skin, drowning all of me in something numbing, something frightening. He peered at me with his half empty hazel eyes and I wondered what he saw as he leaned forward and locked his lips to mine...
