All expectations make her heart feel numb
Mabel was no expert on when to forget or when to recall; a soul too young and already quite tarnished. In the midst of the fog, she leaned against the bridge, standing tall and stark in the visions of haze as he sat along its spectacles – as if she could safeguard. She couldn’t. Not yet anyway. But her head tilted and her ears listened and the intangible threads still stung somewhere, even over those who could no longer feel pain. “Don’t we remember the most harmful so we don’t repeat it?” Did that make sense? She shrugged, the movement lost in the mist. The sagacity gone from her immediately too – as if vengeance had no place in those seconds.
Uncertain what to make of his laughter, she turned back into the abyss, face pressed into its wake, jaw lifted to the lack of moonlight, to the cover of darkness as clouds rolled in – murky, distorted. “She is.” And something she’d said to his counterpart conjured in her chest, a half smirk sculpted on the sides of her mouth. “What else has she done for you?”
Uncertain what to make of his laughter, she turned back into the abyss, face pressed into its wake, jaw lifted to the lack of moonlight, to the cover of darkness as clouds rolled in – murky, distorted. “She is.” And something she’d said to his counterpart conjured in her chest, a half smirk sculpted on the sides of her mouth. “What else has she done for you?”
MABEL
