Missing…Alone

You can’t miss what you never had.

This wasn’t, strictly speaking, true. You could miss something that you’ve never had.¬†

He pulled on his gloves and reached for the top hat, making certain that it was on properly and wouldn’t come loose even when he should step up into the waiting carriage by the door.

“You should have done this years ago!”

“I know! But finding the right time was simply exhausting. We were having too much fun just being in love!”

His thoughts strayed back to the lovely little thing that had been on his brother’s arm, her veil still cascading down her back and only adding a delightful fog to her ebony hair.

It’s perfectly possible to miss something you’ve never had, especially if you can still look at it from the outside so often.

The carriage drove past a lamppost and he looked out at it, feeling a kinship with the loneliest thing on the planet.


This little snippet was inspired by the FreeWriteFriday prompt from this last Friday.

Sights and Sounds Bleed Through

The world was incredibly confusing. Every time she looked around the world was turning this way and that. Colors swirled this way and that, different patterns running as fast as a train at full speed, but also as slow turning as thickening caramel.

“Miss Hailey, are you all right?” someone asked.

She didn’t answer, she wasn’t certain that they were even talking to her. Their voice was unfamiliar to her. Well, every voice around her was unfamiliar. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing at this point. If she didn’t know the voice, there was a good chance that it wouldn’t end up with her head in a burlap sack.

The vertigo worsened and she saw the world tilt even more until she felt the cool and uneven texture of whatever was on the floor against her cheek. She pinched her eyes closed and felt hands brush themselves against her face and hair, carefully checking her temperature. They felt as cool and wonderful as the ground against her overheated body as it lay sprawled across the floor.

Several bodies huddled around her for a moment before they were ordered to move away. She closed her eyes once again, nauseated enough to not try and open them again.

The voices continued to speak around her and she tried to shut them out. They made the colors worse, like psychedelic pearls floating away from people’s mouths. how they managed to do this even when her eyes were closed was a mystery, but the pounding in her temples in response was certainly real, not fictional in the least.

She wasn’t certain what had happened next, because the colors and sounds proved to be too much for her. The darkness was a blessing in more ways than one for her at this point.


Written for this week’s FreeWriteFriday:¬†http://kellieelmore.com/2014/01/31/fwf-free-write-friday-word-bank-9/

Also, this type of situation has actually  happened to me. I call it Dr. Seuss Vertigo and it is not pretty. The times it continues before black-out and/or sleep are horrible and not time-able by the person feeling it.