Trapped within the dimly lit concrete behemoth the rats scatter and scatter as they attempt to keep themselves secure within their small part of an elaborate incomprehensible maze of paths and side paths intersecting interweaving interconnected and vast.
You kept imagining her body, sprawled, a car crash, invisible, dying, freedom from making the decision, but this is only imagination. Six years ago, on your birthday, Dolly had given you a hand-carved wooden box, a lovely idea, now the box sits unused, empty, possibly beechwood, invisible, not yours, not of this time.
You buried her eyes in your heart. They had not detached easily from the body.
“All the better to eat you with,” the guy purrs and Rusty wrinkles his nose in disgust. He’s not gay or anything, but even if he was, that is just. Well, it’s a bad line, isn’t it?
“What is that, like. A euphemism?”
“No,” the guy says, smiling, showing off a row of slightly-yellowed, sharp teeth. They come out of fucking nowhere,