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“I felt her. Before the wind shifted. Before the stars blinked. Before the Island hummed, its gold-threaded scream. I felt her like a splinter under the nail. I tasted her shadow— sawdust, regret, and something that should have stayed dead. Like a memory I'd buried deep— and pissed on for good measure.” — JL MacDougall
I felt her.
Before the wind shifted.
Before the stars blinked.
Before the Island hummed,
its gold-threaded scream.
I felt her
like a splinter under the nail.
I tasted her shadow—
sawdust, regret,
and something that should have stayed dead.
Like a memory I'd buried deep—
and pissed on for good measure.