So yeah, this is a really random drabble that popped into my brain, and so I wrote it down. It's not really about Lily and James, and it's not really about anyone or anything to do with HP, but I wrote it, and you shall read it. Or not. Depending.
Spirals
They sucked her in, lost her in their swirling mists; followed and haunted and trapped her.
Endless spirals.
The walls were covered in them; they were doodled over her work and tattoed on her mind.
They drew her to them like a moth to a flame and, like a flame, she burned.
But it was more of a drowning than a burning, and more of a poisoning than a drowning.
Her quill idly twirls on the corner of her parchment and a spiral appears.
Ominous, almost malevolent.
She stares at it and as her emerald eyes unfocus she gazes at something only she can see and her quill dances over the parchment.
Swirling and whirling and twirling and they spring up in its wake.
She is lost.