The Cage
Title: The Cage
Author: bugs
Rating: T
Word Count: 300
~*~
She can’t stop touching me. “The Cylons wanted to jump away, leaving you behind.” Her shaking hands frantically tug my gunpowder-dusted tunic down.
“The moment that Raptor lifted off, I regretted leaving you. If we were going to die today, I didn’t want us to be apart.” Her teeth grip my throat, holding fast at my thudding pulse.
“You knew I needed you to be safe,” I say. She should remove her scratchy wig, lay back on the rack and rest, but I can’t keep my hands off her either. Her sweater, black like funeral crepe, melts away. I bury my nose between her breasts, breathing in her sour/sweet smell.
She pulls me up. “Then Zarek said you were dead.” Her drowning pool eyes stare up at me as she traces my face with her fingertips. “After everything we’ve been through, I finally found hate in my heart.”
The hate is for herself when she whispers, “I was ready to kill everyone if one man couldn’t live.”
Holding her close, I listen to her heartbeat; frantic as a sparrow’s wings fluttering in my hands. I try to lighten her mood. “You know it’d take more than Zarek to chop the head off this old rooster. Didn’t you have any faith in me?”
“I thought you were dead.” There’s resentment in her voice.
I wasn’t supposed to die first. It took her so long to let me in and now she can’t let me out of her heart. The bird is caged.
“I’m right here,” I reassure her. That’s why we’re touching; to make it a truth.
Her truth: crumpled-tissue skin, her face’s harsh planes, sunken eye sockets, blue veins webbing across her tender, cancerous breasts.
“Have faith,” I urge her again, and myself. Today was not our day to die.
End~*
Author: bugs
Rating: T
Word Count: 300
~*~
She can’t stop touching me. “The Cylons wanted to jump away, leaving you behind.” Her shaking hands frantically tug my gunpowder-dusted tunic down.
“The moment that Raptor lifted off, I regretted leaving you. If we were going to die today, I didn’t want us to be apart.” Her teeth grip my throat, holding fast at my thudding pulse.
“You knew I needed you to be safe,” I say. She should remove her scratchy wig, lay back on the rack and rest, but I can’t keep my hands off her either. Her sweater, black like funeral crepe, melts away. I bury my nose between her breasts, breathing in her sour/sweet smell.
She pulls me up. “Then Zarek said you were dead.” Her drowning pool eyes stare up at me as she traces my face with her fingertips. “After everything we’ve been through, I finally found hate in my heart.”
The hate is for herself when she whispers, “I was ready to kill everyone if one man couldn’t live.”
Holding her close, I listen to her heartbeat; frantic as a sparrow’s wings fluttering in my hands. I try to lighten her mood. “You know it’d take more than Zarek to chop the head off this old rooster. Didn’t you have any faith in me?”
“I thought you were dead.” There’s resentment in her voice.
I wasn’t supposed to die first. It took her so long to let me in and now she can’t let me out of her heart. The bird is caged.
“I’m right here,” I reassure her. That’s why we’re touching; to make it a truth.
Her truth: crumpled-tissue skin, her face’s harsh planes, sunken eye sockets, blue veins webbing across her tender, cancerous breasts.
“Have faith,” I urge her again, and myself. Today was not our day to die.
End~*