Laid on the cold ground, eyes upon the stars, she held still.
If she didn’t exhale that breath and inhale another, everything could end.
Her tears watered the grass at her sides, never promising to hold steady. She felt herself sinking into the soil beneath, being pulled gently down to join her twin sister buried deep below.
The earth absorbed her, wrapped around her, easing a path downward like collapsing into a hot bubble bath and having the water reshape to hold you.
The bones of her sister embraced her, welcoming their reunion. They would sleep forever now, as a pair.
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Claire L Marsh
Claire writes short stories and poems, mainly in the horror or dark fantasy genres. She lives in the Cotswolds, UK with her husband and Phoenix (don’t tell him he’s a kitten. He thinks he’s a mountain lion). She currently works for an organisation that assists police forces nationally, providing support for evidence-based practice. Her background is in forensic psychology, including over nine years lecturing it at postgraduate level. Psychology often creeps into her stories; it could be how someone reacts to trauma or why people don’t intervene if they see violence.