Disclaimer: Juliet and Domovoi Butler are the creations of Eoin Colfer. Not me.
Warning: Minor Spoilers for The Lost Colony
September
Pinch
Punch
The weight of her fist slammed into her side, like a self-propelled brick. And then it leaned back… and sprang again into the wounds of four weeks prior.
And she would grab at him, and hold him still, as if today might be the first time that he struggled.
It was almost always in the morning: for he would hear the birds sing with the song of a new month, only for it to fade amongst loud clangs of pain. She tried to keep him conscious, though; it saved waking him later.
First day of the month…
As she left his bedside for the door, the hot fury would leave her face. With a voice like stone she would say, "How the hell did you fuck up this badly?"
Even if he could have freed his bones from their lodged, battered state long enough to speak, he would never have had an answer.
Then – for thirty or thirty one days, depending on his luck – she would leave him. Only the torturous glare of contempt panged at his side for a while, although Butler liked to pretend it was worse.
And no returns.
But one day, as he lay in his blood soaked stupor, it occurred to him that it was August.
So, the next day, he packed up a few belongings and fled for his life.
end
Hello, all, just a little something I cooked up last night, while working on one of my longer fics. I really want to get good at "drabbling" because I hugely admire those writers who can make them so pretty, and lyrical, and powerful.
So: what did you think? Constructive criticism or just general reviews are always greatly appreciated, and I'll try to get back to you.