Thin Sheets

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A girls experience craving, again, the deep tender embrace of the thin gray sheets in her bed.

Submitted: April 01, 2015

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Submitted: April 01, 2015

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Its hot, really hot. And humid, so humid.

My breathing is shallow and I can feel the sweat running in a smooth current from my neck to my chest as I rise from the blank gray sheets of my nights slumbers. The light shines brightly engulfing me, my eyes squinting over the chartreuse tinted glow cast over the room. Developing my surroundings. 

The cushion caves under my hips and I can hear the springs creak softly with every movement to the edge.I place my feet on the hard thick concrete slab of the floor. My body shivers from the cold, it advances up my feet raising to my inner stomach, letting out a much needed chill through all the way to my core.

  I release my breath heavily, clouded with the unwanted knowing of the now present days events. I lean pushing myself up from the comfort of the bed, I wanted to be consumed in. 

Stretching my limbs forward and up and down all at once. There is a brief popping inside my arms, wrists, and shoulders of presumed bone gases releasing my tendons to their original positions. 

I walk slowly, sluggishly, to the old ancient styled balcony talking a gasp of blazing fresh air. The ruined city is quiet and pale. The landscape desolate and deteriorating in the wind.

  My lugs expanding with warmth, the pressure building inside them. I turn back to the room brushing my elongated fingers across its stony walls. Bits of its bones and white tar trickle to the floor like dandruff.  I lean to my tows and pick up the faded denim dress at my feet. Slipping my hands through the form fitting sleves and wrapping its small slender belt of brown leather around my gracile waist securing the fabric in place. I dust my knees with the palm of my hand as I stand, cradling them slightly.Lastly gently slipping on my dusty brown, more than suitable loafers.

  I drift to the door with a gentile pace my legs light and airy, my body still muggy. I look back to the room my eyes scanning its empty landscape, crumbing walls, and open doorways. Shifting my gaze to the lone mattress that lay strait to floor. Wishing for the strength not to crawl whimpering back to the cooling soft tender gray sheets of my dreams.


© Copyright 2020 Kate Lyn. All rights reserved.

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