In Living Hands
Aug. 31st | Posted by artsharks
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When he picked up the skull to stare at it, it seemed to stare right back. It was a relatively small skull, he thought, for he could cradle it firmly in the palm of his hand; it must have once been cloaked by a child’s flesh. The hollows of the eyes were shaped like two imprints, the shape that a spherical pebble leaves in the sand. The hollow of the nose was like an upsidedown heart, a gruesome contrast to the row of perfectly aligned teeth that were bared between invisible gums. The skull had strange contortions and strange shadows, and the darkness in all those hollows resembled the darkness of another world’s night. When he tried to set it down, lines of darkness bled onto his fingers like a webwork of ink, and he could not move his hand. He turned his head away instead.
“Angreek87″







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