Jack's wife gets out of bed, feeling very odd. The world just doesn't seem the same, she can't tell if it's for the better or the worse.
She got the call early that morning, but she didn't cry. Instead, she crawled back in bed and laid there for a good bit, staring at the ceiling. She didn't feel anything, and that was the problem. Her mind knew sadness but her heart was missing from her quivering chest.
A rambling of thoughts swim in her head, sloshing and splashing around. In the ocean of her mind, she manages to find one set of coherent thoughts. A poem, perhaps. An ode. An eulogy.
Grabbing one of Jack's pens, she jots down a quiet phrase.
This morning,
the earth lost a beautiful soul.
It slipped through the cracks in the blinds
and swam up through the strange sunlight.
It fell quietly and gently into the arms
of another world.
One that we all go to,
eventually.
YOU ARE READING
HOUND
Short Story"People are like hounds, they sniff out your weakness, play with your pain, and will hunt you down until you worship them." WARNING: in some chapters, not all, there is adult content. You've been warned.
