The words fall out of my mouth like gravel, like loose change spilled from worn-out pockets. I hadn't even meant to say them, really, they just tumbled out of their own accord. Funny how the body gets its' own ideas sometimes, overrides the brain, forces festering thoughts to the surface like a splinter out of the dermis. Out, out. It's for your own good.

The oddest expression has captured her face, eyes slightly wide, lips parted and twisted. She's about to reply but she can't find her words. She'd be shocked but she saw this coming. She'd be angry but she doesn't care enough. She'd be relieved, but she doesn't want to hurt me.

It's agony, waiting. It's the instant after falling, suspended, anticipating the impact of bruised wrists and skinned knees. A snake coiled to strike. Every analogy I've ever regretting making, looming over my head, ready to drop.

Her tongue brushes the tips of her teeth and there's the sound of breath escaping. My body is tensed in silent prayer, aching for a response, any response.

Rather a lifetime in hell than another moment in this limbo.

The End

10 comments about this work Feed