by Maura Yzmore
How long has it been? A century or two? Thanks to me, you’re not the worse for wear, yet my gift has always offended you.
I wonder why you asked to meet here, the place where you briefly loved me, where you said you wanted to be with me forever, then abandoned me with hatred and disgust after I’d made your wish possible.
My heart leaps as you embrace me.
Your arms fold behind my back. I feel you swiftly pull something out of your sleeve.
My head spins with the joy of your touch, the stake piercing me through.
Maura Yzmore is a writer and science professor based in the American Midwest. Some of her darker fare can be found in The Molotov Cocktail, Aphotic Realm, Coffin Bell, and elsewhere. Website: https://maurayzmore.com/stories/ Twitter: @MauraYzmore