Mytwosentences 212 (Dying To Know 35)

Along the jagged shores of Brigadoon, the vicious, unrelenting pound of the gelid sea seemed to cease under the sweater of a blackening sky, like a simple backyard pool that sat still and luke warm with post-party slumber.

She picked up baby Stella, fell to her knees as prophecy dictated, slowly closed her weeping eyes, and with the slightest hitch in her breath, began.

Written by Edward Roads

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 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 208 (Dying To Know 31)

A tristful moon tried to unfurl it’s peek-a-boo self, not only from a stubborn cloud deck, but also, seemingly, from the pull and weight of the sky itself.

Directionless moonbeams ricocheted pianistic light amongst billions of pop up and down crests, as an enormous, spotted gray sea bird flew above the pristine seafront… {holy friggin crap this water is cold} save for the fresh footprints filling in and draining out with tidal regularity.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 206 (Dying To Know 29)

She wrestled with the dripping, abstruse memories of her vile dad… and step, by slow step, walked to the calm, at least for now, ocean.

The undulatincey of the cold sea helped her mute that haunting smile… and mom, with those totally bullshit hugs, always seemed to leave the room with her fingers folded before her… Allie Carriag plopped upon the moist, tidal earth and began to undress.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 205 (Dying To Know 28)

“Sweetheart, I am just trying to show you why we prosper…it’s ok…you’ll remember this and thank me one day beautiful…stop resisting…you stupid… you useless, lazy bitch…like your… wasted…mother…c’mon, your father is talking to you.. “.

Allie opened her knowing, bloodshot eyes, stood straight up in the dank, and walked toward the water.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 204 (Dying To Know 27)

Despite the gelid sea and a discharged syringe at the shore, Allie crawled only a bit, looked about the pressing grass with it’s breathing sumptuousness, and began to embrace her unexplainable warmth.

No crawlies, no weird bugs, no this, no that, just a {damn it!! damn it!! I don’t mind being alone, I just don’t want to be insignificant} shocking realization that her clothes were dry, and for the very first time since it happened, remembered her disgusting father.

(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 184 (Dying To Know 8)

As Allie gingerly rolled left to better assess the agony in her right arm, she suddenly winced when the brobdingnagian form, which was now too close to ignore, blustered something.

There was a tender, bruised knurl on the upper half of her arm that felt punctured and clotted.. still oozing… “ARE YOU ALLIE CARRAIG!?!”

(Photo by Edward Roads)

(Written by Edward Roads)