Tag Archives: blue-eyed man
Cold As Ashes
Waking up in a bed was weird. It didn’t happen that often, these days. She opened her eyes, sticky and crusted with blood, and groaned at the obscene amount of sunlight in the room. Everything was quiet — the outside … Continue reading
Seriously
“Okay,” she said, not to anyone in particular, if only to stop having to listen to the sound of her own teeth chattering. “Okay, Jones,” she began again. “What do you know?” A spasm shifted from between her shoulder blades, … Continue reading
Exhaustion
It’s hard to get good rest, lately. She wakes up every little while, but never where she had been. And sometimes, she doesn’t even remember having gone to sleep. Sometimes there are bruises. Sometimes there is blood. She rubs at … Continue reading
100 Words: Far-Fetched
They said she was ridiculous, to believe in the thing she believed in. They said men like that, with fire in their eyes, fire in their hands — they didn’t exist. They said she didn’t exist. She knew they were … Continue reading
Missing
“Here,” she said, but only to herself. She put the case down on the tile and lifted the instrument to her chin. Arms lifted in the weirdly familiar, half-awkward box she’d been taught, she drew the rosined bow against the … Continue reading