It fit just under her arm, and when she drew her elbows close to her chest she could forget that it was breathing.

orange peels
They shed in spirals and fall on the ground, forgotten as he takes a piece in his mouth. It tastes sour.

The stone is cool and soothing behind his back, before the inevitable vulture comes to claim his blood, again.

It never changes, really, if he stopped to think about it rationally. There were only so many times you could watch the same scenario day after day and yet, each time he steps out, his breath catches in his throat.

If you count to three, hold hands, and believe — when you jump the wind will catch you and you'll fly away to a magical place where there are no parents and you can eat chocolate every night; they fell.

This is right, this is right, there's nothing at fault here and destiny is awaiting you to make the world a better place, he chanted in his head as he drove the sword home.

She thought he would cry, but instead he just leaned into her and she could feel his heart tremble through his skin.

Crunch went the boot as it stepped on the dried leaf below his heel, like a gunshot.

It dripped onto her fingers, sticky and without a second thought, the finger was in her mouth, taste of skin and syrup.

It didn't matter how close they stood, how near she was... the blankness between then spanned forever.

I'll love you until I die, he'd said, and she'd smiled and nodded and tried not to let the cat out of the bag — of course he would, she was a Black Widow.

She continues to shake him, pleading, begging, but the king will not stir for prayers.

A man who was born blind sits down to have a conversation with a woman who is going blind and he asks: What is the light like? She has no answer for him, but breathes on his palms and lightly traces a circle across his skin — it illuminates.

If asked what he did on Sundays instead of going to Church, he would smile and say nothing.

He spent half his time looking over his right shoulder, and the other half looking straight ahead like a lion on a banner.

He drummed his fingers against the ledge as he surveyed the land, bloodied for miles to come.

If she forgot who she was she figured she could forget everything else, but memory doesn't work that way.

can I play? :o
Overstretched rubber bands and dirty rocks and the waxy useless stubs of crayons, but the only thing she kept was the handkerchief wrapped around them all, which she ironed.

go ahead <3
Cool hands run across the clay and clay turns hard and hardness takes shape into a diamond where a single flame is lit on a dark evening.

Ooh ooh let me.
It lay beneath his head as a pillow as he stared up at the starry night sky, watching the cosmos drift through eternity.