She let it wait for a while. The truth didn’t sink in the way it had to. Perhaps she had to give it another try. Her breath had grown shallow with her feelings pouring down on her like a maelstrom and Grabbing her from the back and pushing her into an abyss that she failed to notice. She clenched the zipper of her cardigan that was choking her throat. She pulled it down slowly, yet steady. The heat was too much, and she was not ready. Her blood curdled vehemently beneath her thinning skin and snaked through her veins in a spiteful disposition.
The clock struck a painful 12. It was only during the midnight that she had a face off with her battles. The time she spent in a solitude that had now started to smother her. Slowly, in a union of her weaknesses. Fear dripped from her skin like faint dew drops. She ripped off the cardigan in one ecstatic motion, as her body tasted a strange sense of freedom. She was a free bird , sans wings.


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© Varina Berryl Rasquinha,, 2015.
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