The misadventures of the heart and sometimes, the stomach.

Stay II

She watched as he stood at the mouth of the door.

Already, she could see him salivate at the taste of freedom.

He seemed hesitant; with one foot in the prison and the other out of it.

She wonders if he’ll leave. Her fingers unconsciously brush against the ring of keys at her side.


“First left at the end of this corridor,” she told him, thrusting the key towards him


He had said no, and now…

Her hand grasped the barbed end of her whip, drawing blood.

He always had the key, they all did. She just left before the consciousness of escape set in

She can’t say it, not out loud at least.


“Stay. Please stay.”


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