long , knobbly fingers – and grasps a thin thread . The muscles of their arm are hollowed out . A soft pink rims their eyes . It ’ s so beautiful . I think there is a dying shade of red within their face . A fantastical pallor , unlike anything that has existed before , washes it away . The mere sight of the whiteness of their eyes , the wan sheen of their damp skin , sends a shiver down my spine . They remain in the halo of orange . They look out and over the gulf between us . They get paler as if colour was leeching out of their perfect world . It is a marvellous sight . The decomposition of colour within that person ’ s face will exterminate the blackness . I can already see it beating it back !
The light is off .
Chloe Robinson 67