A bead of blood bubbled up, burst free from the thin skin. It took up a spectacular amount of space and volume compared to the pinprick that allowed it forth.
Bright as the morning's sun, the sport of red hovered in the cusp of the world at the edge of her finger. A gust of air rattled through the trees and shoved the bubble. It broke from its tension and seeped down her finger into her palm.
A moment gone.
© Ash Huntley
2 comments:
This is amazing! Beautifully written, and reads like poetry. I could visual the whole scene. I love it!
Thank you! It's so encouraging to hear/see a comment like this. :)
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