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SoxMa Poison Chapter 11
The next morning Soul awoke content and happy for the first time in what felt like years. The last two weeks felt like nothing more than a faraway dream. He took a deep breath and reached to wrap Maka in his arms again. His arms met with empty sheets as they crossed the bed making his head snap up in shock.
"Maka?" The bed was empty.
*No It wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been a dream! That amazing night had felt so real. It had to have been real!!* His heart pounded in his ears as he jumped out of bed, ran across his room, wrenched open the door and flew into the hallway wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
Soul breathed a sigh of relief and steadied himself with a hand against the wall. Omelets sizzled happily in a pan filling the small apartment with their heavenly aroma. Maka stood in the kitchen wearing his discarded shirt from the previous night as she tended their breakfast. He crossed the kitchen and hugged her from behind.
"You looked so peacefu
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
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