Friday, November 08, 2013

Art Imitating Life

The carpet smelled of death and roses, carnage, carnations...and dog – provenance of the creature above me. Stomach empty, I could add nothing to the mélange.

I choked back the spell to animate the beautiful vessel, fulfill my filial vassalage. False life was not the answer.

Nate lunged, knife ready to destroy the creation of a godforsaken magician. I couldn’t protest, but part of me died – same as when I first heard her torn to pieces.

Crawling, I reached the jar, anointed it. The soul flared, wrapping tight around the seal. Falling back, blinded, I swear I heard my mother laughing.


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