#cancey

Send me “You are my sunshine” for my muse’s reaction to yours dying in their arms

Not again. Grian couldn’t handle this. Not again. At any moment, the deathly pale figure would jump up and wipe flour off of her face. She would laugh. She would say ‘gotcha!’ in that rough, childish voice she had. Grian would pretend to know she was pretending all along. They would embrace. Then they would have a Nerf Gun fight, maybe eat refrigerated, ultra-ripe peaches.After all, the sun was so, so hot. 

Summer was so, so long, and punctuated with the songs of crickets and stars and storms. Cancey, Millie, the girl who hates wet blankets. Whoever she was, she lived and breathed as a storm, and Grian wanted to be the draft that carried her on when she ran out of wind.   

The storm lay in his arms, little more than a single cloud, high above. A fragile little thing, he noticed. Just like countless others. Her heartbeat was fast and thin. Her pupils were dilated. Grian wondered if she was lost in the delirium that overtook her before she reached this catatonic state. He couldn’t tell if she felt fear in knowing death would follow soon, or if she felt relief. Or if she felt anything at all.

So, he sang. He sang a song that was sung to him by Ruth on countless days and countless nights, including the night of her passing. 

“You are my sunshine,” Grian brushed Cancey’s hair off of her cheek, “my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray,” he paused as a lump rose in his throat and he swallowed hard, “you’ll never know dear, how much I love you,” the pulse in her wrist was growing weaker. He could sense it. 

“Please...don’t take my sunshine away.”

Her chest grew eerily still, her eyes still open. Perhaps they were watery from staring. Perhaps she was crying.Did he see a faint smile?No pulse. Faint or not.

Grian gently closed her eyelids.

All mortal bodies die.

@amcricanmouth

there's this tiny bunny, this year's offspring, huddled where the paper used to be over. 

so i wake up my mom (i left it there thought it was dead) and bring her in to help me get to it. my cat has it in the middle of the room by now and it doesn't look like he knows just what to do with it, but he's tossing it around. poor lil guy is completely limp. so my mom bats my cat away and picks the lil guy up to find he's alive. she rubs him down for injuries and doesn't feel anything. 

he is now curled up in my shower with a washcloth and some water. we're gonna see if he lasts the night and if he does, i assume we're putting him through recovery before releasing him again. obviously if not, then we dispose of the body.