posted on Jun, 14 2010 @ 10:09 PM
just an off-the-cuff. I have no idea what I'm doing here. Just freeforming.
She lumbered down the slough, splashing in the muddy water, unaware of everything, except her primary goal -- to feed. The buzzing in her head was
driving her mad -- like worms rubbing together, their mottled skins a scratch of sandpaper.
Movement ahead and she fixed upon it. Much of her upper body was exposed, but she didn't care; she was beyond caring about love, family,
self-respect, guilt or pleasure.
She was hungry and nothing else mattered.
Her name had been Madrid in another life, but those sounds were meaningless to her, less important than the odor of gasoline. She knew gasoline.
It hurt. She knew fire and she knew pain.
Somewhere back in Telford, she had left her right index finger and thumb behind. The throb was an annoyance compared to the buzz in her head that
wanted to feed. Movement is good. Movement is food.