Just one more I have.
I don't know where I was going with this one at all, so it's a bit confusing.
Once again, prefixes are underlined and the words hold no significance.
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I think it's night, but I can't tell. Blinds drape heavily over Mari's house, blocking out the sun, and every other bit of the world she can.
Ever since she lost her macrosomic baby, things have been going downhill. She's grieving, I'm sure, even after all these years.. Nightmares haunt her like a malevolent spirit, and cling to her memory.
I try to visit as often as I can, and present Mari with gifts from megastores, but being the minimalist she is, she never accepts them.
"You should be heading out, Evelyn." Mari mumbles, glancing at the door.
It's October, and it's starting to get cold out. I'm not sure if I want to leave her by herself.
"Are you hungry? I can try to make you something, even if it's just in the microwave." I offer, standing up, walking towards the kitchen.
Mari shakes her head, "I don't have the metabolism to eat right now."
I peek into the kitchen, looking at the nonstick pans in the sink and multicolor paintings on the wall and the mesophyll of broken leaves of plants that seem to have been recently ripped apart.
Mari's cat sat near the plant, and looked up at me and meowed mischievously.
I look back at Mari.
My objective is to help her in any way possible, but Mari has always been an omnicompetent person, so she knows what she is doing and how to help herself. But I've known her for as long as I can remember, so I'd like to help.
"I'll be okay," Mari smiles, but her voice stays monotone, "you should go home. You need to help yourself as well."
I smile back gently, "If that's what you want."
I head towards the door and wave.
Mari smiles and nods, urging me to go forward.
Sometimes I wonder if she knows she never lost me when I was a baby, and that I've been here, all along, waiting for Mari, my mother, to realize I never died.
Nevertheless, I wave her goodbye, and step out the door.