Long skirts brush tan ankles
Bare feet run across the plain
She falls backwards, laying in the long stalks of grass beneath her
She allows herself to to calm her rushing heart
Looking up at blue skies ahead of her
She is peaceful
She pops sweet strawberries into her mouth
Juice coating her lips
Sun shines upon her face
Warming her chest
Grass brushes against her cheeks, which are a delicious shade of pink
She lies in this field
A grassy field
With her head resting in the dirt
And a smile she could never let ease
She is hearing the chirp of a whippoorwill
Not the systematic beating.
Not her back molded into the stiff cot beneath her.
No aches.
No pains.
No headaches that are slowly tearing her humanity away.
She can feel herself slip away into the dark abyss.
Surrounded by the sounds of sobs.
Chokes.
Squeaky shoes on the aluminum floor.
All she wants is her skirts, and the grass, and the clear blue sky, and the tree in the distance, and the melodies of birds humming in her ear
YOU ARE READING
Shorts
Short StoryThis is just a collection of some shorts I have written, for whatever reason. Some sad, some sexual, some songs, just whatever I am thinking at the moment. If there is a specific warning for each chapter, I will for sure let you know.
