Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

September 20, 2019, 07:08:30 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Tile  (Read 26 times)
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« on: September 13, 2019, 01:36:16 PM »

   She finds herself in the grout, deep in the darkened stain. Rough, scratchy, chipping nails and pinching skin. Folds herself in between so hide away from the straining lights, they buzz incessantly like angry neon. Fluorescence baked into her skin, on top of the first layer, a membrane of linoleum, essence of self placed for all to view. Ruby red hand dazzles the mirrors, waltzing into curled ringlets on her shoulders. A smile, like a lie. Teeth bared in contentedness or in discomfort, her hazel green eyes tell the truth. Bruises on her neck, sucked into existence, fingertips solemnly covering them before the adhesive attaches. Chilling down to the ribs, a shiver takes over, bringing her to the ground, the lights are buzzing again, flaring, blazing, hotter than the sun in the sky, it looks down with knowing judgement, it sees when you try to hide. Behind her, in what could barely be a shadow, in the tiniest cracks under settled tiles, it lurks once more, waiting for that buzzing to stop. Opportunity. Though she does not know it, the inauthentic light is a friend, it flares in response to something worse, something darker, pieces of ceramic settling into dust as it makes its way inů
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