Melita
they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive
of the women they burned alive
She hadn’t meant alcohol, maybe water for his parched throat, to coat down the ebb and flow of whatever pain marred the senses. Nor had she meant to leave him, merely maneuver down the railings and stairs, and along to the kitchen, where she could snag at what was necessary.
But the plea was there, and she wouldn’t deny him. A quick nod, and she was a support beam, a motion in the waves, in the currents, in the house that still remained after fires and mobs, rebellions and screams. Gingerly, carefully, either with hands or shoulders, she meant to ramble with him at her side, a little hum under her breath to stave off whatever agony or apprehension bubbled up, threatened to burst.
Melita paid no heed to the charred bits, because she’d been amongst the smoke and fire, crawling on floors trying to snag at companions and kittens alike. The hollowed sectors didn’t bother her – not as much as everything else surfacing. “What would you like?” By way of preferences, as they neared faucets and containers.
But the plea was there, and she wouldn’t deny him. A quick nod, and she was a support beam, a motion in the waves, in the currents, in the house that still remained after fires and mobs, rebellions and screams. Gingerly, carefully, either with hands or shoulders, she meant to ramble with him at her side, a little hum under her breath to stave off whatever agony or apprehension bubbled up, threatened to burst.
Melita paid no heed to the charred bits, because she’d been amongst the smoke and fire, crawling on floors trying to snag at companions and kittens alike. The hollowed sectors didn’t bother her – not as much as everything else surfacing. “What would you like?” By way of preferences, as they neared faucets and containers.
because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life
to bring a whole wildfire to life
