glaucous blue;

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"Charlie, I don't feel so good."
Azura yawned. She had been
staying at my house for ten
months. Her eyes grew weary
as she touched her temple with
a palm. Her eyes flinched at
the touch.

From recognizing my look of
worry and confusion, she replied,
"I don't know why. I feel like
I'm going to—"

And she ran inside the
bathroom; I ran after her,
holding up her hair.

"throw up," she finished. "Not a fever,
is it?" she questioned.

I touched her forehead
and shook my head.

She quickly rinsed her mouth
and as soon as she took a step.

Her head spun into woven ribbons
and she came unraveling like
a worn out sweater.

Azura, I wanted to scream.
Her eyes closed as her
head touched the ground
underneath her shivering

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