When she walked out of his heart, she forgot to tell him where she kept the key to their cupboard. They had designed their cupboard to be airtight. To keep their memories safe from the fungus and bacteria. It was an alternative to their own hearts.
She had taken his alternative away, forever – he thought.
This morning, she had stepped down his heart and walked into the alternative. Their cupboard.
“I’m back”, he said. And yet, none answered.
The darkness knocked on her cheekbones. But the door was locked. She slept stagnant on her mute heart. She recognized none anymore.
He pressed his ears on her heart for the last time and whispered, “I’m back”.
A heart glowed on the road down his window. Its light hurt his eyes. Won’t let him sleep. Never let him sleep in the nights. Closing his eyes won’t help. The light made everything that came in its way transparent. He had to get up and go to the window. He found a boy coming down the street, his eyes lowered. He hung his head out and cried -
“Hey there, kid. Would you mind turning the heart off on your way?”
She stood for hours inside her own heart. She said she had swallowed herself. She had never known that her heart was this cosy and warm. She played with her enzymes for a while, then realized there was a pain in the left side of her tummy….. which reminded her -
“Shouldn’t I have been in the stomach if I have swallowed myself?” she asked the enzymes.
“You are.” They replied.
“But the heart….”
“You swallowed it too.”
The pain in her tummy increased.
“Indigestion”, she thought.
 | Mental Mist on It Must Have Been Thus |
 | RaiulBaztepo on Songs of Exhaustion |
 | Average Jane on It Must Have Been Thus |
 | cordieb on Bias: An Introduction |
 | BmbwTBrZyMobuBEqN on Songs of Exhaustion |
