[private] holding my breath in the dark; molech

[aero]

only silence remained, holding my breath in the dark; gasping for air with the lungs of a lark

She thinks of him.

How could she not?

She remembers the kind boy with the soft eyes—the one who had seemed so sad, the one who had curled around the shadows and made her want to stay with him too. It had called to all of the softest parts of her. She hadn’t stayed—at least, not the last time—but that does not mean she has not thought of him.

Of course she had.

Of course she would.

She carries the memory with her as she grows. As her legs grow from small and thin to long and limber. As her mane grows and begins to fall in wild waves down her arched neck. As her fine head takes shape, her almond eyes growing curious, her soft mouth somber. She becomes a young woman and not a girl.

And, still, she thinks of him.

She flies through the forest today as a lark—as small and inconsequential as she always felt—when she felt something stirring in the air. Something that felt like a breath of fresh air and a memory all at once. A wind of nostalgia that both soothed and excited as she landed on a branch.

“Are you there?” she thinks, remembering how it had felt like he had plucked her thoughts from the very air before. She thinks of how often she has thought this very thought and heard nothing in return.

Would it be the same today?

aero

@[Molech] - here's a new thread. surprise.