Flash Friday’s Warm-up Wednesday photo prompt and challenge — 100 words exactly. My submission:
You were leaking. All I had done to you — the yelling, cursing, and fists-through-walls fear — was escaping from your pores and puddling around your feet.
I tried to close the holes, gasping in desperate breaths, but then new leaks sprung and it became futile. I watched as you shed your skin and your spirit shed your skeleton. Like an old-time projection of my sins right before me.
Over time, I came to drown in what I had done to you. My own skin began to mold from being water-logged. And the smell was unbearable.
All of it was.
