Maybe this is okay. I wasn't with her when she was buried. I felt it, but I wasn't with her.
Maybe this is okay.
I can't stop what is happening. I can't forget it all.
I can only let the fire rage, let it all burn away into memories.
Lock those in a tight box and open it only when I feel safe.
YOU ARE READING
Entropy
Short StoryA story about love, despair, and chaos, told in fragments. Her screams echoed inside the glass coffin. I heard them. She scratched her fingernails bloody on the hard case that kept her inside. I felt the blood trickle down my own hands. She pounded...
