Run, but you can never hide / From the shadow that's creeping up inside
[Saturday the 13th, Day 13, night]
[Continued from here.]
Gates and doors and lanternlight from the courtyard paved with flagstones (graves)--the one and the other shut out the last, and the night goes grey and blue with moonlight, starlight, looses the smothering richness of black and purple. It's like blood draining out of a bruise, leaving flesh stunned to senselessness pale but sensate again, able to do something more than scream.
I can breathe.
"You call my name every time you eat."
I can run.
Down close-to-midnight streets, dirt and stones like broken bones, moonlight hisses, ghost whispers, Iago's hand in mine, and I can barely keep the breath I thought was lost from whistling in my throat. Speed and silence, best I can of both, clinging to shadows, I remember, I remember where we were going...
The doorway of the Tavern's not nearly deep or shadowed enough for my comfort right now, no matter how hard my back presses into it. Sometime in the run I started weeping silently, and my face is wet and cold. Iago looks like he's going to say something (his eyes, I can see his eyes again), but I put my fingers to his mouth and point silently to the keyhole.
Locking the door behind us isn't enough. Locking the door to his suite behind us starts to be. I find myself in the dimmest corner I can, shoulders pressed into the wall, shaking silently.
[Open to Iago]
[Closed]
[Continued from here.]
Gates and doors and lanternlight from the courtyard paved with flagstones (graves)--the one and the other shut out the last, and the night goes grey and blue with moonlight, starlight, looses the smothering richness of black and purple. It's like blood draining out of a bruise, leaving flesh stunned to senselessness pale but sensate again, able to do something more than scream.
I can breathe.
"You call my name every time you eat."
I can run.
Down close-to-midnight streets, dirt and stones like broken bones, moonlight hisses, ghost whispers, Iago's hand in mine, and I can barely keep the breath I thought was lost from whistling in my throat. Speed and silence, best I can of both, clinging to shadows, I remember, I remember where we were going...
The doorway of the Tavern's not nearly deep or shadowed enough for my comfort right now, no matter how hard my back presses into it. Sometime in the run I started weeping silently, and my face is wet and cold. Iago looks like he's going to say something (his eyes, I can see his eyes again), but I put my fingers to his mouth and point silently to the keyhole.
Locking the door behind us isn't enough. Locking the door to his suite behind us starts to be. I find myself in the dimmest corner I can, shoulders pressed into the wall, shaking silently.
[Open to Iago]
[Closed]