Grace

Human_Being___four_by_feunS

Human Being Four, by feunS

Mud. All over her shoes, dripping off the edges of her trousers. Grace grimaces and kicks her feet, sending her sodden shoes rolling sluggishly away from her. Tom watches her entry, annoyed already. “You’re leaving dirt everywhere” he remarks. “Bite me” she mutters darkly and stomps her way past him to their room, shutting the door pointedly. Once inside, she pulls of her jeans and sits down on the edge of her bed. She cries for a minute, as she always does, and regains her composure. Time for a bath.

With difficulty she gets up again – being mobile is getting tougher now. The baby seems to be growing a foot every day. She wouldn’t be surprised if she gave birth to a giant in a few months with the way they were going. She was heavy, all the time. It was taking all her strength to drag her own weight around each day. She steps into the shower and relaxes a little with the steaming heat. As she squints through the flood of water against her face, she wishes she could stay here forever. Not have to get out. Not have to sit through a bland dinner. Not have to have another fight with Tom. And they would have a fight. They fought about everything. If they didn’t fight they just sat there, bitter and silent. Fighting was almost an improvement to that silence. Continue reading Grace

Liberté

She sits in debris.

Rubble presses into her thighs and she shifts, uncomfortable. She has always enjoyed mess but this is just so vast, she can’t seem to see the end of it. Picking up a shard of glass, she runs her fingers over the jagged edges knowing she will get cut. She does. It is not a deep wound but the spiking pain elicits an involuntary cry from her, even though she was expecting it. She squeezes her thumb, making the little balloon of blood swell and break, sinking into the fine creases of her fingerprint. Pretty, she thinks and then puts her thumb in her mouth, sucking on it like a child as she surveys the damage.

So much to do. So much to sort through. How could she possibly get through this mess? Decide what to store and what to throw away?

*          *          * Continue reading Liberté