Death is not Dying [Flash Fiction]

She says my soul is her blank slate, a clay tablet for her to impress. She passes through my heart again, what she isn’t sure she believes. I call out her name in my dreams. I wake waiting for her to respond. She continues to hammer her tacks into my head. I ask her to stop. She says I never listen.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.