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.
___________
Next
No comments:
Post a Comment