Her hand is in mine, small and soft, I clapse it gently. She smiles at me and twirls a delicate red flower. She goes to hand it to me, but it falls from her fingers, landing on her chest, staining her white summer dress. The red rash is not delicate, it is savage, and it stays there as if to say 'she is marked'
The sun has set, the night is upon and a storm is coming. Winds rattle the windows and rain cascades down from the pitch black sky. A disease is killing her. Her cold fingers wrap around my hand, and she exhausts herself to lean over and whisper "Do not fear it, for death is what will unbind me"
A weak smile trembles across her lips.
"I love you"
She is breathless.
The sun has set, the night upon and a storm has struck.
Just something short - once again procrastinating from the many essays i have to write for uni.
Listening to: Stolen - Dashboard Confessionals
Eating: Milkyway with Raspberry Jelly