Love

By Chie Theresa Fujioka

New Addition (1.4.1)

It was cold. So cold my breath hung in the air, frozen in time and space. Out of the barn floated the giddy music of fiddles and the shouts of my neighbors as they danced. Spears of ice were verywhere, hanging of trees and rocks, ready to impale the small children who might run over and slid down the ice. I could see their ghosts, staring at me balefully from blue puffy faces, grotesquely dead and revolting. But I was drawn. They were my ghosts after all and I ought to visit them. Anyone else would see hate in their gazes if they could even see them, but I, I saw love. I loved them. Why else did I sacrifice them to the winter queen. Surely I love them enough to spare them the pain, misery and complete triviality of life. My love tastes sweet of blood.

(01.04.01)

Even as the shadow of the trees grow darker, I can see the pink of the snow grow so much brighter, florescing in the glistening moonlit ice. As it grows deeper and darker, I can smell their scent, so earthly, and real, perfume of the maiden Death. The air is thick with the bitter taste which I have grown to love, along with my sweet darlings.

I lick my lips in anticipation of the ambrosia I wish to partake from the stone alter. To sink my teeth into the soft flesh and imbibe the waters of my fountain of youth, Oh I cannot resist!

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