Had I been alive, I should've felt my heart flutter, or my palms sweaty but all I felt was apprehension. As if I have known him all along. I let him follow.
What do you say to people you just met? What do you say to strangers who will forever be aware of your existence?
"I died here."
I tell him as he stares at the rock I scribbled on a few moments ago. He does not respond. I cross my arms in fraud nonchalance as I try to break the ice he unconsciously builds. "I was swimming. And then I wasn't."
He looks at me.
I feel the sand kiss my feet and the wind pull me into an icy hug as I hold my gaze upon his. He has hazel eyes and thin lips, his brows arced in a way that it looked as if he is always worried. His hair almost covers his eyes as it drops in brown threadlike curls reminding me of Alexandre Cabanel's The Fallen Angel, which was a slap in the face.
I caress his cheeks and in one, unforgiving moment, I place his lips into mine.
YOU ARE READING
Phantasmagoria
Short StoryI am not sure if I am the only one, but given my situation, I probably am. I am not sure if you felt the same way as I did. Hell, I am not even sure if any of you is real. If you are, please stay. I will tell you my story. And if, in any way possib...
