person-690033_1280By Natalie Morris

I look back, just once, because I know she will never look as far back as me. As far back as  the dankest corners of the universe that smell of shame. The woman, my uteral companion, is across the street and worlds away. Games of shadow puppets hover on the bleak horizon of the past. She saw me sink into a perennial past full of evil. She got hurt. She ran.

I’m left with the frozen recesses of Neptune. She’s basking in the spring glow of Jupiter, moving ever closer to the sun. Divergence. Parallels of glory and misery.


11 thoughts on “Broken

  1. Beautifully written, however, there are a couple of spots the wording could have been improved (e.g. “She got hurt.” seems a little awkward). With another draft, this might not have been just beautiful, but exquisite. I love the concept and what I perceive to be the backstory. This seems to be the tip of a tremendous, poignant tale in the vein of Hemingway’s Iceberg Principle. Keep up the excellent work.


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