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It burned, a gaze that stretched beyond the mortal coils of earthly parameters, smoldered like parched embers ignited with the fury of an oxygen kiss. Scarlet danced among fireflies, painting the atmosphere in glistening waves that ebbed like the effervescent pulse of the ocean. a slow motion massacre , a vivid extinguishing of life, unable to be disremembered in the already delicate spectrum of her mind. she is tormented, no, she is vulnerable, the man once coerced to blind allegiance but a murmur of her past, now lifeless in the belching belly of a manic bear. she trembled under the glitter of the moon, her glacial gaze glancing guardedly at shadows, her mind building ravenous phantasms from the oily whorls of the dark. As a moth to flame, she is drawn; an electric curtain ready to claim her, she is under the miasmic spell of the sieving threshold.
Despite the change in weather, the eventide had dressed the décor with an eerie chill, fog draping like dense ectoplasm on the vegetation. It slithered under her frail steps, hooves delving into the plush pillow of moss which seemed to cough vapor from betwixt their cadenced comingling. The pale veil of moon-glow filtered through the cobweb of gnarled branches that tangled above, making her auburn flesh somehow otherworldly. She was a specter, onyx muscles not seized by light amalgamating into seamless obscurity, the only conspicuous characteristic to attribute to her presence the gentle flow of vanilla mane and the sapphire sparkle of anxiety-glazed eyes. Her head was low, her gait a graceless trudge as though she were certain a single misstep would result in the world caving in. Where was she going? Where did this lead?
Her lips drawn into a soft frown, she exhaled, regurgitating a small neigh that seemed to question what was in front of her, or worse, what she couldn’t see.
