Saturday, 19 October 2013

Her Lungs Were In A Constant Flutter...

Her lungs were in a constant flutter, as if a pair of folded wings lay hidden inside her chest, politely requesting release. At least once a day their many feathers would suddenly flare in a sharp sort of abandon, they had sensed a mere hint of pressure from something in the world and cried in alarm, cried a breathless sorrow against their skeletal shackles.

No comments:

Post a Comment