As he slams into her she feels waves of cold pass through her body. A thrust, a jolt of pain, and chills run across her skin, she can’t remember his name. She wants to know his name, she wants to hear him say hers. She lets out her breath, lets out a noise, tries not to speak but does, “Tell me you love me.”
The cold is her body now. Something slight, a whisper in her ear, “. . . love you.” Shards of ice slice through her frigid flesh. She screams with something more and something less than pain.
He rises and is off the bed, out of reach. She sinks further into the darkness, into the cold, and is consumed by the death that she feels.
stray musings and introspections stumbled upon in the stacks or the recovery period thereafter
Thursday, May 17, 2007
NightDepths
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