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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Catch
Mouth
Mouths
Tried
Moving
Beautiful
Caterpillar
Like
Caterpillars
Reached

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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
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The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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In a moment, when I'm ready, I will turn off this computer and that will be it. This letter will be finished. A part of me doesn't want to stop writing to you, but I need to. For both of us.
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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
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When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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There is no need to put your heart in a bottle, then you will die. - Ty from Stolen
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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I could hear you, talking to the daffodils and tulips, whispering to the fairies that lived inside their petals. Each separate flower had a different family inside it.
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I mean, that star over there is blinking at me madly now, but for how long? An hour or two, or for the next million years? And how long will we sit here like this? Just another moment, or the rest of our lives? You know which one I'd prefer.
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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
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The sand stretched out gray and ghostlike and illuminated, a column of light leading forward. It was like something a dead person would see, a tunnel leading toward heaven.
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