Wednesday, January 4, 2012

FEATHERS by Rosalind Kim Nazilli

Her last remark. The final slur on his already destroyed character.
He took himself away. For her sake as much as his own.
He lay on the wet sand, stretched star shaped, staring up into a black sky.
As he prayed that something would take him, release him from the torment of his unacceptable love for innocence he felt a soft fluttering against his face.
He reached up, feathers from some invisible bird.
His feet were wet. The tide was in, channelling a moat around him.
The sudden flapping of wings did not scare him. He knew they would come.

BIO: Rosalind Kim Nazilli ** coming **

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