Forging ahead with fictional endeavours: ~ Write a life on a page and hurry not to its grave; abhor not the coming age, for eternal is the next page. ~ Read what you will, I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I do writing.

The coin’s other face.


This piece has been written under the rules of visdare. I have added the prompt in quotes below from Writerish Ramblings for an extra challenge.  This is also part 2 of a trilogy. Part 1 is here and part 3 is here.

If someone you didn’t like could suddenly read your mind, what kind of conversation would you be forced to have?

Warm bands enclosed her neck; eyes snapped wide in the dark. Eclipsing a full moon, her patient straddled her waist, towering above. Gone was vacant expression, and cringing subservience; instead there was an animistic snarl to his features, akin to that of a wounded animal. Through sheer willpower she forced herself to relax, instinctive understanding the need to act submissive. “You loath him; buying him like a mule for labour, why heal him?” She froze; this man knew. As she tensed so did his fingers round her neck. “It is not him I loath,” She replied, ungluing her tongue, “I loath what he has become.” His grip relaxed. “I see,” She observed, “You are the ‘demon’ that the slavers feared.”

“Demon? No. I am the survivor; he is but the shell.” With that strange remark, her patient returned to his bed; leaving her to quite contemplation.


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