A Star that Breathes

Standard

I stared at the ceiling above me, tracing images in the speckled tiles like I did the stars as a child. Maybe they were the stars. I couldn’t tell anymore. Sound had escaped me; just a constant, overbearing silence. Silence so complete, so loud, it seemed fake – fabricated from my imagination like the stars in the ceiling. Awareness slowly crept into my echoing brain, dragging thoughts with it, attacking the silence with a vengeance, flooding the empty caverns and banging against the walls with enough force to cause them to shake. Or maybe I was the one shaking. As loud as the silence was, it was preferable to this… madness.

I blinked, that subtle movement of those miniscule patches of skin bringing forth a searing pain. My mind screamed in utter agony, but barley a whisper passed through my lips. You must have breath to scream. Strangely, thoughts of my Latin teacher slip into my mind, having reprimanded me for mixing up the phrases anima and animus.

“You breathe air, my child. Not spirit. Life would be much shorter if we all let our animus escape through our lips with a simple breath, would it not?”

My final thought, as the stars dimmed, was if I’d get to see my soul as it passed through my lips on my dying breath.

Writing Prompts

Prompt brought to you by: Tipsy Lit

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “A Star that Breathes

  1. WendyStrain

    Your choice of perspective really pulled out the emotion of the moment. As confused as the character seems to be about what’s going on, it is peaceful and serene.

    Like

Drop a line

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s