Drabble a Day

by Simone Robinson

Inspired by others who have undertaken this challenge, to write a drabble a day, I've decided to try. I'm not sure if I can do it, but I'm going to try. To improve writing skills, to gain insight, to explore the written word, the written worlds and those who live in them. Humour, angst, romance, a meeting of genres to create a collection of drabbles updated as often as possible.

30. Poison

Poison

The smog of the city worked its way into her lungs, choking them up and making them tighter. This city was full of poison, of doubt and dishonour and she coughed, expelling it from her lungs. The taxi sped away from her and she watched it go, eyes lingering for a moment, but only for a moment. Because she had business to attend to, important business.

It was important, it was duty, and nothing was more important that her duty. She sucked in another lungful of poison, feeling it sink into her limbs, her blood, making her feel slow and sick. She swallowed back the taste at the back of her throat and willed away the grit and dust that seemed to stick to her lips, her tongue.

She willed the spirits of her ancestors, of the family who she had never known, to push her forward, to keep her going. The dull roar of the city drowned out the sound of her heels on the concrete, just like it drowned out her soul.

She entered the building, the scent hitting her, twisting her heart with duty and pain, comfort and uncertainty. And for a moment, she hesitated. Passing the windows, she tilted her head, only for a moment, and stared at the sky, the rooftops with their shadows, the rooftops with their battles and lies and pain, and for a moment, she wished.

But wishes were nothing but poison, and they could cost you dearly. And Karai knew that better than anyone. Turning, she pushed open the inner doors, feeling the cold beneath her fingertips. No more hesitation.