britewordworm

January 21, 2016

Word Fifty-Four: Tower

Pain, stabbing and forceful, filled her chest. Cold seeping into her abdominal cavity, forcing life out of her with every breath. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, hoping to stop the tears from flowing. No matter how hard she tried, each memory with him returned, replaying like she was right there in that moment. Like that moment he held her hand…or brushed her hair…or kissed her cheek, so sweet, so tenderly.

Where was he now? Who would she turn to now?

She’d made in him a refuge, a strong tower, of which he proved unworthy.

It broke her.

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