Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
| Blogs > wickedeasy > wicked and that ain't so easy |
all clear
|
all clear Between midnight and dawn, night is endless. It stretches on forever. Sleep eluded her. The glaring green numbers from the clock on her television seemed to take forever to change. A minute simply could not last that long….it was impossible. She flipped the switch on her bedside lamp, reached for her kindle and swiped it open, lighting a cigarette as she harrumphed into a curve and began reading, again. At this rate, she will have read ten books by the end of the week and won’t remember any of them because they are all crap, crap, crap. Trying to read anything but crap is useless because her mind is a sieve. Why bother if the words just drop right through. Might as well just do serial killers until her tiny black soul withers up entirely and she shits it out that is if she ever shits again which is another thing, eh? Why the hell can’t she poop anymore? She who pooped religiously twice a day. It’s a conspiracy, she thought. And there goes that chapter, starting again. What WAS that noise? The skittered into the room and fled into her closet. Uhoh. Holding still, she listened. Nope, not a thing. She tamped out the cigarette and listened more closely as if the cigarette had been making too much noise. Okay, she heard “something”. But something is very likely nothing other than nerves reacting to the and dark and being so freaking tired. Right? Right. She slid back and picked up the kindle, swiping it back open. Her eyes flitted to the ceiling and a shadow moved across it and disappeared. Her legs turned to water, hands shaking as she popped a cigarette into her mouth, lighting it and inhaling deeply. Reaching for her phone she dialed 911. Leaving the line open she spoke softly, stuttering out her address. Sitting stiffly in her bed, she reached for the knitting she’d been working earlier that evening, pulled out the needles, gripping them tightly as she listened, not moving, barely breathing. The sound of sirens grew closer. When she heard car doors slam, she sprinted to the hallway just as the police slammed through her front door. She stood there, her hands over her mouth as they swarmed through her home. It took forever, it was only minutes. “clear” “clear” “clear” The word repeated over and over….a<b> mantra </font></b>she whispered into her hands They assured her she had done the right thing. They told her it was better to call than not call. She nodded and nodded, tears filling her eyes. When they left it was almost dawn and she collapsed onto her bed and finally fell asleep, the under her arm. He stood over her for a few minutes, inhaling deeply before he left by the front door.  You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
||||
|
Love it! 
| |||
|
Takes me time to read it but is always good. 
| |||
|
wicked, you are a wicked fine writer.  Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
| |||
|
Creeeeepy.  
| |||
|
Imagination running away late at night?  Vive La Difference
|
Become a member to create a blog
