Day 155
The marbles broke through the glass like #buckshot, and the silence that followed the symphony of shattering glass roared in his ears. There was no way in hell his mother hadn’t heard that and he was going to be in so much trouble when she-“ADRIAN CHARLES WENTWORTH!”
Day 156
She hissed and groaned as her skin split apart, relieving the pressure that had built up and providing momentary relief to the ever-present itch of her annual #slough. Hooking her finger beneath the fresh fissure she pulled gently, enjoying the crackle as it peeled away.
Day 157
His forearms rippled, #sinew dancing beneath tanned skin as he struggled to keep his grip on her hand.
“Hold on!” He urged, trying to stop her from swaying back and forth below him. “People are coming to help!”
“You have to let go of me.” She sobbed. “Or we’ll both die!”
Day 158
Inky black gave way to purple & red, the first colours of the #aurora. She was dying beneath the most beautiful sky she’d ever seen and longed to commit it to canvas. As her life ebbed into the ground beneath her, she felt something else take it’s place. Something darker.
Day 159
The alarm cut her out of her #langour like a butcher slicing a steak out of a carcass. Quickly, and with no time for adjustment. She was up and out of bed before she realised, stumbling to the bathroom to try and make herself look somewhat presentable. Or at least human.
Day 160
The bath bomb spat colour, #effervescent as it hit the water, the only noise in an otherwise silent bathroom. Shedding her robe, she slipped into water as dark as her mood, sighing appreciatively at the temperature. In the corner, the last vestiges of the bomb fizzled out.
Day 161
Falling into Kira’s arms was Moll’s #panacea. All trace of the days pains were washed away with just one touch. A gentle caress or a chaste kiss to the forehead. Spending the day killing and defending her territory was worth it when she got to come home to such an angel.
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Lisa Stapleton 
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