Mytwosentences 211 (Dying To Know 34)

Stella’s small body began to quiver under a piercing stare that never broke… drool slowly seeped from the corner of her pink mouth, which was quickly swabbed by the queen herself; the final overseer of this isolated and splash blasted, ancient rockiness.

Zenobia raised both arms, shook her hands violently side to side, and never broke eye contact with baby Stella… birds flew at speedy angles and began to congregate up and ’round; darkness happened then. Just darkness.

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 210 (Dying To Know 33)

Slightly swaying and with an effortless skill, Zenobia finished playing her beloved Clarsach for Stella; whose baby blues had become wide and curious, almost tumescent, inside the tidy warmth of a laniferous island swaddle.

As a conclave of spotted sea birds found perch high above, Zenobia applied unguent to her tissuey hands, clutched a slight, roundish face and locked eyes with the pure tranquillity before her.

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 209 (Dying To Know 32)

STAVE III

In the early light of a musty Brigadoon morning, Zenobia lifted her woolen hood, winced down to one knee, and leaned forward to brace herself on the natural cradle formed by the tiny and towering ancient rocks which stood guard beyond the lush pathways.

There was something perfunctory as she began her monotone whisper, completely flat, like the way you would answer a telephone half asleep; “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday baby Stella, Happy Birthday to you.”

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 207 (Dying To Know 30)

As a moonlit fog confronted darkness, Allie struggled to pull her torn shirt above her head, back and forth hips wriggled out of her pants, and hefty boots, one at a time, plopped down on the shore leaving their mark.

She stood, completely nude, shameless and hard… letting her worn hands slowly slide over her tender, aching breasts… she took a deep breath, looked up, then down, and slowly waded into the water.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 203 (Dying To Know 26)

After a mindful glance side to side, Allie spun around, quickly dropped to meet the sand, and guided her hand along the brittle edge of the wispy grass for a possible prehension of the fanning warm air.

Now able to process something like this {I don’t think the friggin grass has stopped swaying for a bloody second}, she realized the tall grass on the hummock was actually moving independent of the warm air flow; and without so much as another thought, began to crawl within.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 201 (Dying To Know 24)

As her stomach grumbled and her ice cold ears heard clarsach-like sounds wafting from the tall grass, Allie’s bloodshot eyes attempted to focus on a jarring kaleidoscope of unrecognizable script, perhaps ancient in form, strewn about the table’s entirety.

The goosebump chill of the night was settling in and her visible breath made it challenging to see, but a muffled bell began to ring somewhere in the distant storage unit of Allie’s mind when she happened upon a single, legible inscribe… ‘Shill d19’.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 200 (Dying To Know 23)

STAVE II

A moonlit fog confronted the darkness in the quietude of the shoreline, and began an unnaturally steady, almost sinister roll… which appeared to gather itself as it crept inland.

Like a child that was at once afraid of what was under the bed, but also curious, Allie Carraig, with her back to the sea, carefully leaned closer to the mysterious table and opened her eyes.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 196 (Dying To Know 20)

Just beyond the table, a perpetual breeze serpentined through the tall, wispy grass, and created a symphonic wave whose syncopated rustle sounded like a gently plucked harp.

As Allie rubbed her right arm and stepped toward the table, she observed the pristine seafront and it’s naturally meandering striations, which seemed to imprint time’s tide in a coastal longform.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 195 (Dying To Know 19)

She was alone with the wind… no hungry, discombobulated crowds, no assemblage of rickety boats that discharged nameless aspirants, and no indication, save for a single thing, that Dock 19 existed.

Allie, who was standing at the lip of an encroaching tide, dropped the mysterious syringe onto the wet shoreline, and fixated on what appeared to be a hulking table near the top of the berm.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 194 (Dying To Know 18)

There were moments, brief indeed, perhaps better described as pauses, where unremarkable events that took place during the course of a given day seemed to subliminally disengage; as if the air, in all it’s capacities and nuances, suddenly got quiet.

Those were the thoughts that seeped into Allie Carraig’s unsteady mind when her regard for the bloody syringe abruptly dissevered… and she noticed something absolutely terrifying.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 191 (Dying To Know 15)

Tall, jagged walls of ancient rock rose high along the perimeter of an almost beachless shoreline, and protectively cradled the rich topography naturally encased within.

The verdant and lively land, flourishing with succulent fruit trees and lush vegetable gardens, was intricately connected by rudimentary footpaths which cleverly converged at a substantial, circular clearing in the center.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 187 (Dying To Know 11)

Her milky white midriff was thinly drawn, ribby, perhaps even emaciated… but Allie Carraig was experiencing a physical and introspective resurgence of soul, that in all likelihood would unshade the mystic margin between life and death.

As a black and comfortless sky was developing over Dock 19, actually a wasteland tagged Dock 19, the encroaching mass, now more amoeba than hominid, drifted up to the very tip of Allie’s nose.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 186 (Dying To Know 10)

Besides the tight rope cable around her neck, Allie wore nothing but faded black jeans, a thick cotton T-shirt, and scuffed work boots whose untied laces hung stiffly askew.

She pulled at the base of her cinereal shirt, tore a 5″ swath all the way around, and twisted up an effective tourniquet for her right arm, which was now completely numb.

(Written by Edward Roads)