Dec 19, 2024
There is something breathing in this dark room.
In the rustle and slither of limp parts.
Creatures in the dark are often statuesque, she isn't.
You can hear her breathing.
She's drifting.
The humming of the fan drowning hers.
A huff.
Suffocating? Not quite.
A turnover.
The ceiling stretched darker.
A creak.
She stood.
Her steps were dull against the cold tiles.
The light slipping through her bedroom door barely a sliver.
Clink! The sound of metal against metal.
Her belts hang in her closet like prisoners in gallows.
She took a brown one.
Odd, the belt could stretch.
Squeak, skin against tiles.
The bed groaned as she knelt.
A sigh.
She was kneeling in the dark.
Her body offered up.
Inky shadows.
Blatant perverts enjoying the show.
