7/23/17
“August, I have migraine. Can you just leave me alone today?”
He flickered in response.
“Stop it. That makes it hurt more.”
He flickered more, faster
“August, please.” I closed my eyes and felt a ribbon of ice swirl around me, faster and faster, pulling me with it as it swirled and swirled. Pain stabbed into my head and twisted with the cold wind, shaving off skull and brain matter with every rotation.
“August!”
He stopped. I felt myself swaying and opened my eyes. Where the cold retreated, fire blazed in my skull, blackening my brain.
“Fine. You got the Six of Pentacles, reversed.”
He flickered, fast. A blinding blur that almost brought my breakfast up. I took a deep breath and looked away. August stopped. And laughed.
“I can see why you never accomplish anything, Writer.” And then he left me to my brain throbbing, nauseous self. I put my head down on my desk and cried as darkness crept in.