The following is a part of a ‘minuscule musings’ series. It’s more like a work in progress for a larger piece, a short story. I aim to add to it each week, and hopefully something fluid will come of it!
Betrothed to what was stolen from her.
And when once removed of it, removed from her was her use for me.
And yet, as my mind wandered, as I was at war with myself, I could not convince myself of anything. Caught by conviction, I forced myself to move on as if she never existed. Removed her from my memory, just as the spell she had over me.
And not from me, she’ll ever again feel.