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sylvanSpider sylvanSpider is offline
Weaver of Webs
Default   #53  
The women were left alone. The men, having left, brought with them the only signs of life in the house. Emily stood as if frozen in time, her eyes stuck on the bottom of a chair leg. This time the night prior, Rosamund still drew breath. Rosamund was still there offering words of kindness and wisdom. Those words died with her and Emily was left with...nothing.

Katherine watched Emily as she stared into the flames blazing from the hearth. She was left with few options. To go for comfort or not didn't really matter, though the transport to Elizabeth would be easier should she build up trust. Taking a deep breath, she moved to step behind her liege, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I know...I know that nothing I say can bring back your friend, and I know that you hardly know me, but please understand that I am here to help you. You can trust me.”

Emily blinked, shaken from her daze shaking her head. Silence followed for a few moments as she remembered that she needed to breath and nodded. “I...I know...I know. But why...why me? And why Rosamund? Does Mr. Wegg truly believe that there is a connection between Mrs. Thomas's murder and Rosamund's? What about William? ...Where do I fit into all of this?”

“I wish I had all of the answers for you, dear, I really do. But, Mr. Wegg was hired to his position for a reason. We have nothing to do except wait until he gets this all taken care of,” Katherine said calmly. She knew who Simon was, what his specialty was. She could feel the holy symbols even on the outside of his briefcase. From the chain that hung around his neck bearing that wretched symbol. She knew that he'd be a thorn in their side. “For now, all you can do is rest, which I recommend you do now. Perhaps a new day will help alleviate some of your pain.”

Emily didn't object; in fact, she said nothing at all as she stood, a blank expression on her face. She was in her bed, eyes still open, as her heartrate fell to that of a slumbering human.

Katherine closed her eyes, placing a hand on Emily's head. She'd successfully infiltrated Emily's dreams.
All that is empty in the drawing should be filled in, the teacher said to us kids. First you sharpen the pencil to fill in the thin whiskers, then you use the thick crayon to fill in the wings with brown, meticulously and without letting the crayon leave the page. Six feet can be traced below the soft belly. Now, breathing is hard to detect on paper, the teacher said to me when I asked, but it is easier to feel it in real life.

Even insects breathe.

-Rawi Hage, Cockroach
Old Posted 03-26-2018, 09:21 PM Reply With Quote