Marbles on Glass
13. Chatter
Her first layer is silence – the wall of unspoken questions that parts the two of them, thin yet unbreakable. And it burns to shreds.
Through the cracks plays a feeble voice, soft and endearing with the hunger of childhood. Its curiosity warps in a scream.
Right after is a list, neutral and businesslike – it tastes of bitter chocolate, of the thin lies beneath. It dies down in the smell of burnt crust.
The fourth sound is bare red. It is foreign, furious, yet the truest side of her.
Neither of them lives long enough to hear the yell of freedom.