I lay face down. Unmoving. My eyelids fluttered. Trying yet failing to shield my eyes, as they gradually turned glassy. My mouth twitched. The caked spittle around it cracked. The corners somewhat curled up on the verge of a smile. As I slowly bled out on the canvas.
It soaked up the spilled color, more vibrant as I faded. Quickly filling the blank space in strong, angry brush strokes. From where I lay, I stared at the Rorschach as it bloomed. It seemed random. Devoid of meaning. As senseless as this scene.
The crimson crept and unfurled into wings that sprung from behind me. I felt light. Free. Then there was a light knocking. The sound of wood on wood pulled me back. It tiptoed around and stopped before me. Heels. Polished patina. Ruby. I remember we got them on sale.
Then I wet myself.
photo from here
