Die Writing

A thin membrane

Posted in Uncategorized by erdaron on December 11, 2011


Who are the people I keep talking to in my head?

One night, too late

They both leaned against the wall, much too late in the night and much too close for the conversation to be polite and friendly. They were both anxiously expected elsewhere. She put a hand on his chest, felt the heat of his skin through the fabric. His breath formed into steam. It was freezing, but they were completely unaware.

“Never thought…”

“It is a thin membrane that you are up against. And terrible, terrible things are writhing awake just beneath.”

They stopped. They breathed again, filling the shrinking space with steam. She curled up her fingers, gathering this shirt into her grasp.

“I am not the choice. You are not choosing me. The choice is our worst demons.”

“It is dark poetry.”

He shifted his weight forward and his hand bumped into her hip. The fingertips turned and traced her outline, glided on the silk around her waist. Her eyes walked up his body. Their swirling gazes met.

The grasp on his shirt tightened. Some of her fingers slipped into the gap between the buttons and were touching his skin. She held on with all her strength, but was not drawing him closer. His hand on her waist was pulling on her as much as it was holding her in place.

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