Time isn't a line, but rather each chapter for each dimension.
A woman stood alone in a town covered in a blanket of snow, flurries of white dust hitting her face as her eyes held low.
She stopped dead in her tracks, staring into the dark pit on the edge of the sidewalk, with an emotionless stare.
No one was to be anywhere but their homes at this hour, for it was the only day in the year where a blizzard poured over Hachelworth. Little girls and boys peeked out of their curtains, as mothers and fathers narrowed their eyes, dragging their children away--all watching the woman, dressed in a long black trench coat, her hair black and cut choppy and uneven above her shoulders, mildly covering her pale neck.
She kept her head low, feeling their gazes burn through her. She continued walking, as her eyes drifted to a large poster pasted to the side of a large brick wall, flapping restlessly in the bitterly cold wind.
A man with narrow, dark eyes shot a glare back at her from the poster. His long brown hair drooped down, touching his back, as his bangs tucked behind his ear. His eyebrows were raised, his blood-red lips let out a sly smile.
The caption was partially scribbled out in black ink, and all that could be read were the words 'KNOW', 'YOU'.
The woman furrowed her eyebrows at the poster, yet kept walking. She looked over her shoulder for a second, for the eyes on the poster were those kinds of eyes that seemed to follow you.
She ignored the thought and continued on her way.
YOU ARE READING
The Narcissist's Rose
General Fiction[A short story I wrote in 2020, left unpublished.] They tear their flesh off in their cardboard cutouts. He gets out his keyring and strokes a small pocket knife. He holds it in the air, up to Aerona's neck. He mimics slitting her throat. He starts...
