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[raiknii.livejournal.com]

Challenge: Infatuation

Title: Streaming

Word Count: 165

Other: Rivulets of blood streamed down his arm to drip onto the dirt, and he wondered how this had become his obsession.

 

 

            It was such a pity that skin was so fragile. A tiny movement – just so – sliced open moon-pale skin, and the blood started dripping.

 

            His fingers moved to roll the drops between them, to savor the feeling of life held between mortal fingers, and he wondered how losing the crimson life-liquid had become his existence.

 

            They came and stared with big, worried eyes, whispered among themselves, shifted nervously. Suicidal was the catch phrase of the day – what they labeled him as.

 

            He wasn’t suicidal. He told himself so every day, thus it couldn’t be true.

 

            Rivulets of blood streamed down his arm to drip onto the dirt, and he wondered how this had become his obsession.

 

            He didn’t want to die, but perhaps he would expire for this infatuation.

 

            Maybe it’d be enough to repent for his sins if he died.

 

            Maybe he could finally stop fighting.

 

            And maybe, just maybe, in death, he could simply dream of bliss in the arms of his love…