the earths pulse

the sun beams in through the window, filling the floor of my room like an ocean. spilling itself from ceiling to floor. and all i can hear are the shadows crawling up book shelves, moving through legs of tables and chairs. almost ready  to grab me by the ankles and pull me into the dark threshold of the afternoons glazed eyes.
two more hours, i wait here.
three more showers, to wash away dead skin cells that crackle louder then the bones we stepped on in the thick coated cemetery. I feel my own thoughts eating away at everything inside, and around me. burning the edges of books, and cracking open old sea shells. the paint on the walls pealing like snake skin.
twelve rusty nails holding up smoke stained frames.
but the light doesnt reflect far enough for you to see them.
 

Reviews

[Gabriella]

Your description is amazing, though it is mysterious. The only suggestion I have is when you mention the paint on the walls, do you mean "pealing" or "peeling?" I can see how the spelling you used would work though. Are there going to be more chapters?

[DavidRyan]

You definitely have a way with words and it's impressive. I've never felt more alone in a room where the sun is flooding in. How even beautiful weather cannot take your mind off the things that matter. The ending was strong and everything in this piece is put perfectly into place. Dug it a lot.