Smudged Stories

"dear diary, something beautiful happened to me today,"

She was the charcoal that all the artists loved to sketch with. A remanence of the fires that burned within her. No longer an ember, not quite in ashes. She had purpose. He loved her even after she could no longer fit in his hands. She lived in his work. ~ESR

Upon your arrival home, you walk into the bathroom and notice there are hand smudges all over your mirror, so you grab a towel and try to clean them. But no matter how hard you scrub, they remain there. Upon closer inspection, you realize those prints are coming from inside the glass. You look closer and you see that there are furious scratches on the glass. You ponder this revelation, and you hear glass break from the bathroom across the house.

She wanted to find out why he drew his tattoos with sharpie.