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Mycobacterial
laminuitpluie
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she clenches her fist and then spreads her fingers wide. her hand feels ghost-like, as if it might simply fade away.    

one. two. three.    
(more)
You want to say something - you've mapped out the way the conversation should flow in your head a thousand times - but the carefully formed sentences leave your mind the moment you open your mouth.

Someone says something to you, but it's all a blur - their(more)
The harder you scrub, the redder everything becomes, the deeper the scars etch themselves, the closer you come to your fragile end. The water cascades across the plains of your bloodied hands, but it won't save you.

His choked last breath echoes off the walls around you and(more)
"he's... dead."

those two words spin around and around, taunting every memory, every image of his face that springs to mind. they dance for the eyes, they sing for the ears.
(more)
As his lips delicately caress the skin of her neck, he pushes her down to meet the cool touch of his desk. His hands move slowly down her sides until they reach her waist, where he slides his thumbs under the brim of her jeans. She feels them begin(more)