Walking home on my own. Standing like figurines, two black American Air-force boys, Temple guards for all I know. The hairs on my charity shop fur coat bristle. ” Hey Ma’me…” Too naive, too dark, too late. Now I have two companions. Be nice, be friendly. I point them towards town. I walk the last few yards to my boyfriends house, my soul leaching from my body, as they follow.
watched from above
cutting the heart from
the sacrificial lamb
Beautifully painted imagery (coat hairs bristling). So full of tension and trepidation. Wonderfully written.
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How disconcerting. Your fear is palpable.
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