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Atonement

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IMG_1342

They say that full thickness burns are painless
though the epidermis never truly heals.
Tight scars engulf you –
if you’re lucky, you survive the onslaught.

Me, I look exactly as I was before,
so the immolation must have been minor,
or so others say.
Scratch beneath the surface
and you will reveal the echoes of what was said, or worse –
left unspoken.
The air still hangs heavy between us,
leaden, oily, ready to ignite.

Oh, we had a spark alright
but left uncontrolled
with no firebreak between us
inflagration was inevitable.

To all, to all, but us.

The Conversation – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 8 Comments

035a

“This is where we marked her passing,” you say.

“She didn’t die here?” I hardly dare ask the question, my voice barely a whisper. You are a man for statements, not explanations.

“She did not die here,” you say. It is a bald statement.

Yet again, as has been our custom, I let the silence hang between us. It is a new routine, to replace those of my prior, solitary existence.

“She died out there,” you say, pointing to the hills that brood on the horizon.

“I am sorry,” I say, looking at you. You are staring towards those hills, as if to destroy them with your thoughts. I kneel down, reach out to brush the dust and lichen from the worn stone, to reveal her name to the elements.

“NO!” You grasp my arm, pull me up and away from the headstone. I bite down on the yelp of protest as pain arrows across my shoulders. You do not like dissent. I have learned this lesson well.

“She was careless,” you say and stride away from me. You mount your horse, landing in the saddle in one, supple move.

I turn my back and walk into the house.

You will return.

You will return.

 

————

Here’s my latest entry into Magpie Tales. There is a theme running through my weekly writings once again. If you want to know more about Sarah, please read my Five Sentence Fiction and Three Word Wednesday entries. Can you identify with her at all?

Redshifted – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 31 Comments

maier vivian self portrait

Self-obsession is everywhere.

I cannot walk down the street, visit a coffee shop, buy a newspaper without the evidence of this burning shadows on my retinas.

If it is not preening in mirrors, it is magazines using sex to sell themselves and the products they advertise.

I try so hard to let it go, let it go, let it go, I try to breathe it away but I cannot resist The Calling any more.

Eradication is the only option.

People only see of me what they want to see.

No, correction, they don’t see me at all.

————

Self-portrait Vivian Maier

Here’s my latest entry into Magpie Tales. There is a theme running through my weekly writings once again. If you want to know more about the person behind these thoughts, please read my Five Sentence Fiction and Three Word Wednesday entries.

Dark times, dark thoughts…