This is a weary state of being. To my husband’s great joy, I have been revived four times since dying last spring. I cannot express the torment of my soul being wrenched from peace to give rise to this rotted mass of flesh. I've considered tearing his great machine to pieces while he sleeps but there is no longer need.
With the winter came his dismay, and his cough. His invention will fail without that divine spark he’d harness from the summer storms.
Death beckons us both now. Together, we shall slumber, sorrow buried beneath a stark shroud of snow.
Author bio: Cynthia Fucci is a used-book peddler living in Montana. When she’s not reading the books she should be selling, she’s writing anything that strikes her fancy.
Reanimation is part of 101 Fiction issue 2.
And you should keep writing anything that strikes your fancy! Excellent piece, I had a vision of a weary Bride of Frankenstein.
ReplyDeleteLove the emotions it evokes, especially in the beginning.
ReplyDeleteA most excellent first sentence. Kept me reading with that emotion in mind. Wonderful story!
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