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Castled — The Suicides, #78

My blood will cover:

The carpet.
The couch.
Part of the window sill. Those curtains, not these.

I’ll die, here, staining only my things.

But not the table: the heirloom from my wife’s mother.

“Why?” She’d ask.

Because these things are mine.

(Image: www.pexels.com, “Chess”)

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10 thoughts on “Castled — The Suicides, #78”

  1. Oh! This is something very different

  2. Oloriel says:

    I found this very powerfull and relatable, the emotion in the ending is very striking to me.

  3. What a tragic story. Alone in life and alone in death 🙁

    1. Alone indeed. Thoughts like these make me wonder why emptiness is so full of things.

  4. Gina says:

    I was trying to like of a word to describe this besides unique. Powerful is perfect.

    1. I don’t think I can improve on the comments above, so I’ll just say I like this enough to take a stroll around your blog.

  5. Candace says:

    I’m not sure if bypassing the table is out of courtesy or something else. Interesting thought process!

    1. I felt, too, that there are two ways to interpret this: the narrator doesn’t want to damage anyone else’s property or else this is the most desperate way of marking one’s territory. I’m guessing from the italics that you are conveying the latter.

  6. Tina says:

    What visceral writing. It’s as if you pulled your guts out onto the floor to write this!

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