Author: Claire Robertson
Those four great comets pull white scars through the sky. Fans of fire expand over our heads, and you still can’t bear to look at me despite how I ask you to. I want the last thing I see to be something familiar.
The half-eaten chocolate cake between us will have to be enough.
I had thought these last dozen minutes would be drawn out in silence, to make them last, until you speak.
“So what comes next?”
I can’t answer you. I still crave the quiet, but you’ve already broken that… this. I can’t fix it. Still, I tried.