Tuesday, April 7, 2009


She smashes it. Again and again. Splinters and fragments hurtling through the air like tiny spears, miniature daggers. A warfare of sorts. She strikes again, her fist bloody, the remaining shards streaked in red. The color immortal. The liquid of life. She smashes it until she can no longer see, her face broken into pieces, melting and deformed. Finally a true reflection.

1 comment: