As a child I favoured poster paints, then I grew into acrylics, but I never had the patience for oils.
Now, my favourite medium starts warm and congeals quickly, drying crimson to mahogany. A fading autumnal stain; a monument to blades and broken promises.
- - - - -
My finger hovers over a red button, labelled not with 'destroy' but with 'delete'. The finale is not marked with an explosion, but with a gentle and necessary honesty. I walk away from another meaningless obligation and take a sweet step closer to myself.
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VSS365 | A Microfiction CollectionShort Story
✒️ An ongoing collection by month of my #vss365 (very short story every day) microfiction Tweets based on daily writing prompts. 🧾 It's labelled Completed because, at any given time, it is complete. But also, it's added to continually. It is what i...