Ring of Confusion

Trev wallows in doubt.

Trev sat alone in his quarters, the silence framed by the heartbeat in his ear, his eyes open but not seeing. His skin felt tight and his breathing labored, as if a heavy suffocating cloak of depression had rolled into his quarters like dense fog off a nocturnal humid moor. Thought of running ran thought his mind, but in space, on a small vessel like Bravo, there was nowhere to run; and, besides, what needed running from was neither here nor there but a dark place within, a wound neither dressed nor healed, a closet within his psyche he had avoided. Within that closet, however, was a throb, persistent as a drip, a steady beat beyond his hands to quiet, relentless as war drums on the distant plain.

Standing, his muscles felt like rubber bands such that every movement met resistance. Even the thought of crawling back in bed took on a monumental feat as if he were asking himself to embark on an epic journey. She was beautiful, she was pregnant and she was out of his league. And then, there was Em. His commed buzzed. He let it be as it vibrated off the nightstand like some giant over-caffeinated insect. He turned out the lights with a wave of his hand and sat his chair before the magnificent window of his quarters, starlight bathing him in cool tones, and from a distance, he looked like a statue. Quiet as a mouse before the cat, the ring sat the floor with a glint to match the owner of the hand above, its cold metal a reflection of the lost heart within the confused chest of a young hynerian.

ed note: Trev had intended this ring to go with this dress.

 

Reviews

[AutumnStorm]

His skin felt tight
labored, suffocating
like dense fog off a nocturnal humid moor
running ran
on a small vessel like Bravo, there was nowhere to run; and, besides, what needed running from was neither here nor there but a dark place within
a wound neither dressed nor healed
a closet within his psyche he had avoided
throb, persistent, drip
beyond his hands to quiet
relentless as war drums on the distant plain.
his muscles felt like rubber bands
Even the thought of crawling back in bed took on a monumental feat as if he were asking himself to embark on an epic journey.
some giant over-caffeinated insect.
starlight bathing him in cool tones
and from a distance, he looked like a statue.
its cold metal a reflection of the lost heart within the confused chest

Those are the pauses in this chapter. A pause, something needed, before it is possible to go on, an extra savouring, a holding, a double take, a moment to catch one's breath, a moment to fortify, to recover, in order to carry on, to expose oneself to still more. Relish. Your writing is to be relished. Slow and complete. Total immersion. A want to and an impossible not to.