The sun was high in the sky, bleaching the world white and free of shadows. The plains were dead, the grass scorched beneath her numb feet. She hadn’t seen the village over her shoulder in hours. She was finally free. Free to close her eyes and imagine a darkness that was warm and welcoming, without shadows and hissing eyes and a broken promise to love forever.
Or maybe it was the ground that was warm, and the darkness that closed over her when she could no longer stand. The hot stickiness of her own blood welcomed her, and she died.
2 comments:
Oh my goodness! That was...sudden. Also, I enjoyed the description in the first paragraph.
Yeah, that was sudden. More sudden than I'd intended, I realize, and will be a point of revision. But she really, really, needed to die, and I knew if I didn't get to it soon I never would.
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