The parlor was completely empty.
The thick, dense carpet silenced any sound that dared drop to the floor.
The sunlight drifting through the window revealed the only visible motion:
the motes, swirling and suspended in light, headed neither up nor down. Lost in space. Lost there, right in front of her.
The man next to her, the man touching the top of her hand, he leaned slightly toward her and whispered his great secret.
Inside of her: those few words cut inside of her like a finely sharpened filet knife.
Through the young, pale skin. through the subcutaneous fat, slicing through the fascia and through the lateral abdominal muscles. they cut through the dark and mysterious, lively cavity and cut through to her spine, severing the bundle of nerves at the middle of her back. Her movement was gone, paralyzed by his secret.
Stillness. Silence. Sunlight.
2 comments:
Well this is a little ambiguous and therefore makes me somewhat concerned. Who is cutting into you? And is this a good thing or a bad thing?
Oh, well... I wasn't trying to give an ambiguous cry for help or anything. I try not to be an angsty, vague-y type.
I just had a friend tell me a very difficult-to-bear secret, the kind I can't do anything about and that just makes my heart hurt a lot. It's been distracting me lately, and it was as if nothing else was happening in the world. Just stillness, silence, and sunlight.
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