random short stories

Stitching

Her anger quickly dissapated and was replaced with a ferocious rage as she saw him sewing.

Like it was normal.

As if he had no problem with the situation.

But she wasn't mad at him in the slightest. She was going to kill the one who made him see this as a normal occurance.

No one would be so unphased with stitching themselves together if they weren't already used to it.

He hadn't winced, or shown any sign of discomfort, and that shook her to the core.

The fundamentals of her being were terrified.

What had he endured? What else did he consider normal?