She was underground.
They were quiet, those last few moments. Yes, her throat gagged and lurched in reflex and her heart pumped what oxygen it could find around the body she had been cursed into, but she herself found that peaceful place from before she was born, and finally the dark light died.
Finally she fell asleep, and it was the deep kind of sleep. The kind you escape into. The kind I’ll never know, because I see all this through His sleepless grid, where time meets space. Where they cut each other in half. Where things are made of knives and chaos.
Years pass. Grass grows. She rots a little, then a lot. Her cells become spores, become knowledge.
Nature eats her and reads her.
Overhead stars shatter and worlds end.
Heat unimaginable cracks infinite emptiness.
Hair, flesh, bone and feather. They spin through the screaming vacuum, clashing and fracturing, their particles forced together fuse into something else.
Something old.
Something new.
A cerise crystal, shaped like a rough heart.
Adam M. Booth’s first book, THE END, is available now through Amazon.
His third, DRIVE, will be available in 2015.
Please visit www.adammbooth.com for more information.
Thank you for reading.
ANGELA Page 7