What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly.

Quite a well crafted yarn from N. over at http://www.therebemonstershere.com



My name is Bast, and finally I am dead.

My corpse is at my feet, and what I see on the ground before me appears to be that of a 22 year old woman; a woman 5 feet 2 inches in the old money, and is lying like Jesus on the cross, flat on its back and arms outstretched across the most magnificent 16th century Persian rug.

Burnished wavy auburn, excruciatingly high maintenance, waist length hair cascades around my size 8 shoulders, highlighting those blank and staring emerald green eyes of mine, eyes purpose built for smiling. Windows to the soul apparently, yet those eyes, my eyes, are eyes that have drawn compliment and witnessed the history of my 1700 and something years on earth. And there they are, wide open, taking the focus off the light smattering of nigh invisible freckles cunningly spread across the alabaster skin of my…

View original post 642 more words

One thought on “What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly.

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: