"What's for dinner?", she mumbled in a barely audible voice.
"Justice", he replied in a straight voice.
She looked at him, startled.
"I served justice for dinner", he clarified.
She slowly walked towards to him. He nodded towards the plate in front of him. On it was a head, severed and bleeding.
Even in the dark, she could make out the face to which it once belonged. It used to belong to one of her tormentors. She took a fork from the stand on the table and poked it deep into one of its eye socket. It slid deep inside, as thick fluid oozed out of the corners of the hole.
She left the fork poking out of the socket and grabbed his face in her arms. She kissed it lightly with bruised lips and whispered slowly into his ears, "I'm still hungry!"
6 comments:
I still cannot comprehend this post. Btw, You don't write anymore?
Maybe, to understand it, you need to be the post! Anyways, it wasn't meant to be understood.
I lost my writing box, just the way I had lost my "voice box".
I'm sure it wasn't meant to be understood, I am just saying I think I did.
I hope you find your writing box soon, like you found your voice box back then.
:O I am a little lost but I am also scared.
Lost, I can comprehend. But scared?
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