Ankyra Sound There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon
what's a little sweetheart like you
doing with a bloody nose?
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Despite her very best intentions, Raleska went back.

Last she had seen her mother, she had turned her away. It had been right, but it had been hard. She needed now, more than ever, someone -- anyone -- to tell her what she had done was okay. That it would be alright. That the world would keep going, turning on its ceaseless wheel.


The heart, as it turns out, is a strangely illogical thing. So many secrets kept in that dark chamber; so many hidden wants and needs concealed in that deeply gurgling, always churning, bloody bower. Fueled by memories blooded by time and grief; cyclical, ever revolving, stupid fucking heart. Raleska was no stranger to the intimacies of that emotionally fouled organ, and here her heart lead her -- back where it all began.

She noted the tide had receded. The wash-line had stained the sequoias, and rimed along the stones - but at last, the Grotto was visible. Her heart did a strange skip as she saw that familiar formation of flowstone - how she had slid up and down that dark tunnel, in days that had passed through her like air between her teeth..

A scent lingered; she could not tell its origin, for it was faded and riddled by sea-brine. Ducking her head under the grotto's hungering mouth, Raleska peered after her endlessly bounding shadow, a sense of shivering dread climbing into her bones. "Hello?"
all of which makes me anxious,
at times unbearably so.
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RE: There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon - by Raleska - January 07, 2020, 07:24 PM