Tender inside her wound she slipped. Still broken from the last night's fallen dreams. A few bone-dusts churned into the broth of flesh. A teaspoon of blood. A pinch of his fading memories. In this abandoned house, smelling of bearskins, alone and lost, delicacies' been waiting for her.
Tonight, Goldilock will not find the porridge that is neither too hot nor too cold.
Unforgetting
Animals - 1: Rabbit
Animals - 2: Rat
Animals - 3: ProtozoanLabels: animal, bear, fairy tale, fiction, flash fiction, goldilock, short story, story, surreal, war, wound
I was disturbed, yesterday, by a swarm of rats. They kept eating off my fingers. I didn't like it because I had cut my nails a few days back. And she said she fell in love with my fingers whenever I'd cut my nails. In fact, those were the only days she would talk to me. She wouldn't recognize me without those hands.
I didn't like it when I found the rats eating my fingers. But they ate it off, anyways.
When I went to her home this morning, frightened of what I thought her reaction would be, I found her sitting on her bed - playing with a swarm of rats.
Labels: animal, fiction, finger, flash fiction, love, rat, short story, story, surreal, surrealism