dark(379) •inspiration:dark and getting darker by kim addonizio.•@kingdonmicrofic•november day 5•warning: non-pairing death referenced. melmisery.
Bitter tendrils wrapped round her heart at the signs of life.
From the apartment above she heard dishes clanking against each other. She imagined a couple, dancing around each other in the golden hour light streaming between their blinds. They finished eating a home cooked meal, continuously draining the wine glasses fused to their grasps.
She didn't really know—it could just as easily be a family on the precipice of fracture; tense air and biting words, shared meals that always disappointed someone.
It wasn't fair that they got to be happy, or angry, or sad with a loved one. Not when she can only speak to hers through prayer.
Mel had preferred top floor apartments—granted they were low enough for a fire engine ladder. Neither herself nor...Had much patience available for thundering steps. The apartment in question had laid empty for the past month. She said she'd return after the funeral. That was a week ago and she hadn't even feigned a performance of packing up or making preparations to leave. The idea of even approaching her complex makes her want to drink herself out of the memories; the hollow condolences, the look of Becca's brown hair splayed on the pillowed casket, and the dirt covering the cheap pine exterior. They stained her mind like the grass to her tights.
Frank pulled the front door behind him carefully with a soft click. She winced whenever doors swung closed, banging against their metal frame. Within three days of their cohabitation he noticed and adjusted without her uttering a word. It was these small considerations that made her chest ache; to be seen when there were no longer witnesses to the day she was born.
"The kids asked when they'd get to see you again," he said gently just above a whisper. Frank's bicep flexed as he scratched the back of his neck, nervous in a way he wasn't before—careful to not trigger tears. "I told them you were still sad—they don't understand." Unsaid that they had asked about her too.
"I-I'm sorry." Her voice is small and unsteady. Unsaid that she didn't know when she'd be ready to face the twins.
The mug of peppermint tea placed at her elbow wouldn't heal her heart, but it warms another side.
