"I want to find a way for us to put the coal down." The voice the I couldn't hear sounded earnest.
I shook my head, barely discernibly. My mouth a large staple; a straight line, with two downward-turned prongs on the ends.
She shrugged and upturned her hands. The coal tumbled toward the ground, but I snatched it with inhumanly fast reflexes. As though stopping it from hitting the ground would save my life.
Cradling it to my chest, I frown in confusion as I watch her turn away, to pick up and carry away an angrier, more hateful cluster of embers.
"I don't understand" is all I can whisper to my little will-o-wisp.
10:27 p.m. - 2014-07-21
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