beautifulcandle

Her fingers flew across the notebook, scribbling down lines. Thick gashes of lead striking light wisps of shading. Her hand raced up and down, smudging the filaments across the paper, but she didn't notice; she was possessed. An inner fire burned and consumed her mind. Her hot head lolled inches above the paper as she hit the drawing again and again with her pencil, chopping details into the page with as much force as a logger felling a tree. The sun had long fallen, and the moon hid behind clouds. From the wet pavement, an eerie glow reflected into her room, illuminating her silhouette to people passing by, if anyone would. The world slept s

Do you hear that? I do. In the walls, in the silent muttering of the floorboards, too soft for daytime but screams by night. They have cornered me now. Here I will stay until the walls melt blood and release the vapours and loathsomes. I shall be slime, a smouldering gelatin. Or something more defiled. Oh, I hear it closer still. I knew it was here but I could not leave. My throat was latched in the curtain rods, my eyes on the clock and my pelvis in the ground. I could not go. They have me here and do not understand what claws away at my walls. It scratches my flesh raw, bleeding. Gore pours down my face, erupts from my belly. I can

She was five-foot-three hand-strong. Diamond eyes and bellyfire. She ran to friend-poisoners and gave knife-gift. Savanna-hearted, a hound-helper. Dependable until bird-silence. The king of Shiphome ate knives, the delicacy of jealous others, too envious. Frantic furies flew and Shiphome was lost at sea. Came she there, and drew flower-poison, a minute's blink, and called for end. None listened, but she continued. Her song-words overcame the fury raves and her bellyfire consumed their own. Fear-killer rested then at Shiphome. She came to jealousy and slew it. She with diamond eyes, could see through mouth-shadows. She knew go