Blood

Geoa Geer
Geoa Geer
Jul 23, 2017 · 2 min read

He puts his head on my shoulder as I lie on the couch, quietly thinking as I scroll through my phone. I have no idea who he is. I put my phone down and brush my hand through his soft hair.

I’m sorry he whispers. I’m just alone.

It’s okay, I whisper back. I think we all are.

He nods into my shoulder and sniffles. I run my hand through his hair, contemplating comfort.

I wonder what we’ll do tomorrow he says, muffled by my shoulder and putting his arm around my waist. Will we go somewhere?

Probably not, I say. I need to work. There’s dancing in the evening though. Do you dance.

No, he shakes his head. It scares me, all the people? I think I’d rather be ignored.

And alone?

No. Not really.

I nod my head. We sit. It’s 2am. The fan hums a battle against summer.

Where do you think we’ll go tomorrow?

I’m not sure

Food?

He gnaws at my soul, this quiet little spirit.

Please do not

His fingers become claws and his mouth becomes blood

Why

Because I quite like my soul, thank you. It is mine.

Yes

Go away, do not eat.

But I am sad. I liked the company. I liked his head on my shoulder, the warmth of a person who isn’t there?

I run my hand through his hair again, but he’s antsy now and claws his teeth. He pushes away and sits up.

Don’t go

Blood on his face, splattered

Don’t go

Frustrated. He lies back down. He stands up and leaves.

I want to eat you

No.

No, thank you. Find your joy elsewhere. Murder is not the answer. Silly.

No

Fine then go fine

Grumpy. He leaves. My heart is relieved and sad.

I sigh.

Geoa Geer

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