I am the original sinner. The burdens of the fruit are mine to bear. When I last saw my reflection, it smiled like Judas with silver in his hand. Oh, what Knowledge has built.
I would trade it all for a little rest, to slumber and forget the price of this free will.
Take me someplace secret, someplace safe, and don't tell a soul. My redemption shall be sought in solitude, in a cell of my own devising. As a mercy, please throw away the key.
Lock me up and let me sleep and may my demons never find me.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
This Heart Got Teeth
Historia CortaDrabbles. Flash fiction. Shorts. One shots. Call them what you will. Conatined here are stories that come and go quickly, passing in barely the span of a blink. Catch them if you can.
