Gravity

The version they don't tell you in school

Stories in the Tiny Worlds Sketchbook are like a pencil sketch with words; loose, unrefined and not wholly a thing. But I like them and think there’s something here you might like, too.

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Gravity

Charleen wailed to the sky as her love lay dying. She wept freely as the blood spread on its own, darkening the loose, mossy stones. His head—like Charleen’s heart—had shattered into a thousand scattered pieces. For all the gallantry in the kingdom, no spell, no magic could reverse time and put him right.

Yet, quietly—beneath the soft crow of blackbirds in the orchard, beneath the buzzing of honeybees—she whispered in his ear… and lied.

In her heart—buried beneath regal wares and a padded corset that lifted her small breasts into something more—that pea-sized coal she called a heart, she knew he was dead. It panged only as much as she allowed.