excorpse
published
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There were many, many things that annoyed Eunice Flomp (thought Eunice Flomp in the third person) -- intersections (why did they always have to cross? she fumed), birds (at least the flying ones), and machines that went 'bing!'. But there was one thing that annoyed her above all else.
People. People who did silly things (though "people in general" was also a possibility on certain days). Eunice Flomp could not stand people who did pointless things like taking extra sugar packets they didn't need or leaving five squares of paper on toilet rolls. Then she fell in love.
Love. Love, but not the good kind. Instead of waking up with a grin, ready to hug the world into submission, she felt dread. Eunice Flomp was a perfectionist by trade and picked at every flaw the man had. It was how she dealt with every crush, strict discipline.
It began the way it always had, processed, controlled...that's how affairs of the heart should be, right? Eunice lived in a world unblurred where anyone else would see it through shades of pink. Pink, like her freezing feet against the cold floor as she rose from the bed.
Each step hurt a little more than the last as she dragged her feet across the room. What was she waking up to? The same unanswered questions rang in her head again and again.
She was waking up to Later, she decided. It would be as simple as that. The ringing in her head subsided, leaving behind a mute throb as she endured the pain in her feet.
She entered the dream and it's back again. The voices and faces become clearer in front of her. Standing between the border line questioning is this real or just a memory.
She can’t ever be too sure. His hair, his face has a way of hiding in the corners of her mind and pawing through just when she feels the least brave. The missed always appears when she doesn't want to do some missing.
Images of their time together stir around, muddling in her mind -- from the silly wild squirrel chases in the park to the lazy Sundays doing crosswords in bed.
She gives a low whisper to the empty, open air, "I can't stop thinking about you." The letters engraved in the stone stare back at her offering her nothing but grief and misery.
She stands to leave, brushing dirt off the knee's of her pants. The grass has not yet grown over the grave. "I will always love you" she whispers as she walks away.
She gives a low whisper to the empty, open air, "I can't stop thinking about you." The letters engraved in the stone stare back at her offering her nothing but grief and misery.
She stands to leave, brushing dirt off the knee's of her pants. The grass has not yet grown over the grave. "I will always love you" she whispers as she walks away.
