What Is It You Ask?
It is a shade of dusky brutal red to some. It is the embrace of an unfaithful inamorata to some. It is the crackling sound of bones breaking to some, but it is also nothing to others. It can feel like a lover’s arm clasped around your heart quenching your throbbing pulse, but it can also feel like a paper being folded and unfolded many times until its remains are crumpled and its traces remaining in the crevices of your palm. What is thing you ask? Why, dear it is the very thing that has the world in chaos. Hate.
Story #39 was pulled out of Drabble #2 by the request of the writer.