03-17-2021, 09:22 PM
[align=center][div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; width: 340px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Had another grown brazen enough to permit their tongue to be crowned by the prospect her mind was to be subject to the dull blade, cruel each clumsy stroke against poorly held memory, laughter all that may be expected in response. No steelen trap laden with wanton teeth her mind, rather shallow in truth, a collection sparingly maintained, too many the dark spaces filled with lockboxes. Enough was it for one such as she, held and thus treasured those few, polished to a fine sheen, known and studied the cracks filled with imagined moments.
That was a time beyond that present, unjust and ever hungry that serrated edge, a feast found and indulged within.
Unstood her folly only now that the irreversible had been performed without her consent. Some part of her, a miniscule portion lost among the quiet drone of ceaseless white noise that rushed forth to fill each space left behind, knew. The edges traced, those jagged severing of what had been, what she had been and all the possibilities of what she may have become, a segment mourning the loss as she fell to damnation. Yet it was a minority, how may she grieve a loss she did not know of, barely comprehend as her mind uttered a continuous looping query.
Who are you.
The pieces that may formulate a satisfactory answer gone, only a name left lacing the edge of a tongue clumsy as framed each unfamiliar syllable. "Saunders." Not enough. A title without meaning, word stripped back until it was a mere epithet she clung to with growing dissatisfaction. More was present, evidence left in the wake of forced removal, never enough for a full picture, barely hinting at that which was desired when assessed. Each exploration staged further into the pillaged depths of her broken psyche offered less, the unearthing prompting removal, her loss staged in each moment, the mere groundwork left.
Possibly best this way. Positive side sought among the lacklustre machinations that populated her mind, anything better than the ceaseless drone, reduced to an ever hungry blackhole her mind. She managed, that enough for the moment, time aplenty present for such threads of thought that wound barbed wire about her skull, constant now the dull agony of a lingering migraine. These thoughts put aside, her motion slowly slightly. The land about different, though her study was rather short, the soil covered by melting frost, numerous now the shallow pools adorning, churned the mud in evident passageways.
It occurred sometime ago unlikely her status as singular existence, the notion at first tantalisingly pleasant until the solitude broken only by the monotony of self posed queries grew difficult to bare, proven this to be false. Or, at the least, another had passed through if not sought lodging, even this trivial piece of useless information coaxing forth a desire long thought dorment. Never one to shy from company, or she may guess at such should the scars laid across her body make evidence poor the crowds she ran with simply for the pleasure of others being around, unfazed by the development. Slow the manner tail shifted, a slow wag though the movement was one unconscious and unpractised thus stilted, alighting on cracked black lips a grin.
The pieces gone, the backdrop stolen, nothing but the moment present to keep her mind grounded. Maybe poor this choice, further complications arising, the prospect of understanding something, finally a way to fill the holes that littered her mind, enough. A temporary fix, truly just a bandaid. But what might the man without memory, with an identity that would crumble should he try to truly analyse it, lose. Nothing. On continued her progression, the snow and soil frigid, numb the paws that moved in a trembling, unsure step, the unknown met for it was all she had left.
That was a time beyond that present, unjust and ever hungry that serrated edge, a feast found and indulged within.
Unstood her folly only now that the irreversible had been performed without her consent. Some part of her, a miniscule portion lost among the quiet drone of ceaseless white noise that rushed forth to fill each space left behind, knew. The edges traced, those jagged severing of what had been, what she had been and all the possibilities of what she may have become, a segment mourning the loss as she fell to damnation. Yet it was a minority, how may she grieve a loss she did not know of, barely comprehend as her mind uttered a continuous looping query.
Who are you.
The pieces that may formulate a satisfactory answer gone, only a name left lacing the edge of a tongue clumsy as framed each unfamiliar syllable. "Saunders." Not enough. A title without meaning, word stripped back until it was a mere epithet she clung to with growing dissatisfaction. More was present, evidence left in the wake of forced removal, never enough for a full picture, barely hinting at that which was desired when assessed. Each exploration staged further into the pillaged depths of her broken psyche offered less, the unearthing prompting removal, her loss staged in each moment, the mere groundwork left.
Possibly best this way. Positive side sought among the lacklustre machinations that populated her mind, anything better than the ceaseless drone, reduced to an ever hungry blackhole her mind. She managed, that enough for the moment, time aplenty present for such threads of thought that wound barbed wire about her skull, constant now the dull agony of a lingering migraine. These thoughts put aside, her motion slowly slightly. The land about different, though her study was rather short, the soil covered by melting frost, numerous now the shallow pools adorning, churned the mud in evident passageways.
It occurred sometime ago unlikely her status as singular existence, the notion at first tantalisingly pleasant until the solitude broken only by the monotony of self posed queries grew difficult to bare, proven this to be false. Or, at the least, another had passed through if not sought lodging, even this trivial piece of useless information coaxing forth a desire long thought dorment. Never one to shy from company, or she may guess at such should the scars laid across her body make evidence poor the crowds she ran with simply for the pleasure of others being around, unfazed by the development. Slow the manner tail shifted, a slow wag though the movement was one unconscious and unpractised thus stilted, alighting on cracked black lips a grin.
The pieces gone, the backdrop stolen, nothing but the moment present to keep her mind grounded. Maybe poor this choice, further complications arising, the prospect of understanding something, finally a way to fill the holes that littered her mind, enough. A temporary fix, truly just a bandaid. But what might the man without memory, with an identity that would crumble should he try to truly analyse it, lose. Nothing. On continued her progression, the snow and soil frigid, numb the paws that moved in a trembling, unsure step, the unknown met for it was all she had left.
