She lifted the small dreamcatcher up to the light, her eyes straining. The beads danced in the light, the thread shimmered as they spun, the feathers melted in her fingers…
Escape.
"Look." She spun around and pointed at her toy from heaven.
"What?" Looking up from the blinking remote, he squinted at the rich maroon thread. "Yeah?"
"Isn't it beautiful?"
Please?
"Okay, honey. Whatever you say." His eyes glazed over once more, his words echoing in her ears, though the television volume was pounding her eardrums.
Whatever you say. Whatever you say. Whatever you say. Honey. Honey. Honey.
She fingered, almost wistfully, the lush feathers that she had spent weeks threading, and as sadly as one loses her child, she sighed.
It was time for another day.
She tossed the dreamcatcher next to a broken beer bottle.
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AU: Hypoesthesia ("diminished sensation") elaborates on two (unspecified) characters in a (to-be) series of drabbles. They're not meant to be very obvious (in meaning), but hopefully something comes of all the feelings that are meant to be conveyed. I'm aiming to have at least twenty of these before I bring them to a close.
