What Lingers in The Body
It’s been trying to reach her again, that sound of hard steel grating on a whetstone. That rhythmic murmur of fine grit and oil - the rhythmic ecstasy of motion and intent, practice and purpose. It calls her, and it whispers a name.
The ghost that brought her a name, embraced her tightly, and nuzzled at her throat. "Let me in, sweetling, let me in." Grace parted her lips and breathed deeply, and the ghost slid smooth and cool over her teeth and filled her lungs. Grace spoke the name aloud, and the ghost spilled from her mouth, a silver mist in the pale moonlight. "I came, sweetling, because you called me. I stay because I am yours."
Grace sighed, slow and smooth, and filled the night with shimmer. She savored the emptiness, and held her breath. She paused. When her heart was a slow, pounding drum, Grace breathed deep, and pulled in her angel. Something lives here now, deep in her body, in her muscles, and in her blood. "I will never leave you, sweetling. I am forever yours." Grace could feel it surge and flow, but now there was work to be done and she wiped her blade clean. There was work to be done, and she had its name.
There was an alley between the vape cave and the BBQ lounge, and chewed bricks formed cliffs to either side. He stood in the shadows of the bleached awning, bathed in fluorescent red.
The knife slid from its sheath of soft leather, handle hugged by her fingers. The cozy scent of clove oil spreading from the blade, as it drew warmth where she held it flat and hidden against her thigh. "You will not survive this", it might have whispered, as it began its climb. The man grunted to the knife, but then before he could yell, knife twisted and rose to bite his throat. After a quick wipe, it was back in its leather lair, hidden at her side. "You’ll never throw me away”, it thought, and ghost agreed.
The ghost that brought her a name, embraced her tightly, and nuzzled at her throat. "Let me in, sweetling, let me in." Grace parted her lips and breathed deeply, and the ghost slid smooth and cool over her teeth and filled her lungs. Grace spoke the name aloud, and the ghost spilled from her mouth, a silver mist in the pale moonlight. "I came, sweetling, because you called me. I stay because I am yours."
Grace sighed, slow and smooth, and filled the night with shimmer. She savored the emptiness, and held her breath. She paused. When her heart was a slow, pounding drum, Grace breathed deep, and pulled in her angel. Something lives here now, deep in her body, in her muscles, and in her blood. "I will never leave you, sweetling. I am forever yours." Grace could feel it surge and flow, but now there was work to be done and she wiped her blade clean. There was work to be done, and she had its name.
There was an alley between the vape cave and the BBQ lounge, and chewed bricks formed cliffs to either side. He stood in the shadows of the bleached awning, bathed in fluorescent red.
The knife slid from its sheath of soft leather, handle hugged by her fingers. The cozy scent of clove oil spreading from the blade, as it drew warmth where she held it flat and hidden against her thigh. "You will not survive this", it might have whispered, as it began its climb. The man grunted to the knife, but then before he could yell, knife twisted and rose to bite his throat. After a quick wipe, it was back in its leather lair, hidden at her side. "You’ll never throw me away”, it thought, and ghost agreed.
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