I rarely experiment with three characters in a short prose piece, at least not in this way. I thought I’d try something different. It’s short, but I wanted to share. Leave a comment with any thoughts you might have.
In her dreams, she sees accidents but no bloodshed. Sometimes it’s a car accident. Your car is always blue-gray, and the other is bright red. Sometimes it’s a stabbing incident, and she wakes up with a leg cramp. But she never sees blood. You’re always involved. The other scenes are fuzzy.
She’s not a fan of needles. When you’re gone, she feels like someone injects her heart with one every night before she shuts her eyes. She wishes she didn’t feel this way. I wish you didn’t sting so much.
The hospital room was cold. It matched the temperature of your heart, even after six hours of praying it wouldn’t.
In reality, she saw the accident. She shut her eyes when it happened, but I still saw the bloodshed.