A Drabble
Tired with the typing skills of a two-year-old - probably not the best combination to be drabbling, but drabble I did, with Barbossa, none the less. Well, it's only 100 words...
Jealousy
Teeth against flesh. The way her nose was snubbed by the food. The eagerness with which she took the goblet, drank the wine.
So young. So animated. So alive.
He felt...but no, he could no longer feel.
But he was close to it. Closer to it than he had ever been. He was dimly aware of an ache deep within, a dull pain, fuelled by ten years of nothing. An ache beyond hunger, beyond feeling, beyond memory.
Hunger. Madness. It was all the same, once you got down to the meat of it.
"And the apples? One of those next."
--
Finis.
And now, dear friends, to bed.
Jealousy
Teeth against flesh. The way her nose was snubbed by the food. The eagerness with which she took the goblet, drank the wine.
So young. So animated. So alive.
He felt...but no, he could no longer feel.
But he was close to it. Closer to it than he had ever been. He was dimly aware of an ache deep within, a dull pain, fuelled by ten years of nothing. An ache beyond hunger, beyond feeling, beyond memory.
Hunger. Madness. It was all the same, once you got down to the meat of it.
"And the apples? One of those next."
--
Finis.
And now, dear friends, to bed.