The strawberry is poison and it pops into your mouth as if by magic.
It is cold and sour. It pricks your tongue like a bee sting. You
chew as if a spider clawed its way across your jaw before stopping to
rest above your lower lip, you chew delicately.
Originally published in 50 to 1 (as Jessica Otto).
We stepped outside the greenhouse and the lights went cold. He reached out; his palm froze against Saturn’s gelatinous ring and pulled away from his wrist like wet paper. I felt the romance leak out of our suicide as I saw the black hole. I punched him in the face.
Originally published in 50 to 1 (as Jessica Otto) 13Feb2010.
I don’t know where home is anymore.
A splash of red stains my vision, unyielding.
I can’t get rid of it no matter how I try.
(A Three Line Tale for Three Line Tales Week 101)