Groovy Tunes, Tuesday
It was dark and hushed in Groovy Tunes today, and the quiet music was discordant and harsh.
Everything had been so perfect. When the ichor had pulled her into darkness, when her eyes had gone black and her skin gray. Her body had mutated and she had known peace. All the little ticks of her brain had made sense. She had been a gear in a larger clock; a puzzle-piece in a grand puzzle. Nothing was strange. Nothing was wrong. She hadn't been mad at all.
Her body was slowly returning. So she had been mad. She had thought herself sanest while completely, entirely mad. What did that say for her?
She had endangered her child; what better proof that she was unfit to care for it? Had the child experienced her madness? There was no way to tell.
Alice sat in Groovy Tunes. It was open, even if none of the lights were on. She preferred the shadows. They helped her to think. Or to hide, as the case may be, though hiding from one's self required more effort than dark.
(open-ocd-free)
Everything had been so perfect. When the ichor had pulled her into darkness, when her eyes had gone black and her skin gray. Her body had mutated and she had known peace. All the little ticks of her brain had made sense. She had been a gear in a larger clock; a puzzle-piece in a grand puzzle. Nothing was strange. Nothing was wrong. She hadn't been mad at all.
Her body was slowly returning. So she had been mad. She had thought herself sanest while completely, entirely mad. What did that say for her?
She had endangered her child; what better proof that she was unfit to care for it? Had the child experienced her madness? There was no way to tell.
Alice sat in Groovy Tunes. It was open, even if none of the lights were on. She preferred the shadows. They helped her to think. Or to hide, as the case may be, though hiding from one's self required more effort than dark.
(open-ocd-free)