la proie
Its warmth flowed into her cupped hand, soft brown fur pulsating gently against her skin. She lifted its small body to eye level, slowly opened her hand, watched its whiskers twitching, feeling, sensing, its eyes curious, oblivious, nose small and pink and working insanely to comprehend. She shook her head slightly, lowered it again, looked down upon its vulnerability, afraid and disgusted by the disarming similarities between herself and this creature that stood upon her hand. She cupped her hand once more. Tighter and tighter still, ignoring the sharp teeth that broke her skin, that implored and begged, that served as the last and the first defense of its short innocent pointless life. A shrill scream before it choked and lay still. She lifted its small body to eye level, slowly opened her hand, stared at the twisted body, limp tail, lilliputian tongue and blood-stained teeth, her blood. No streak of sadism flowed in her veins but the path behind her was littered with the bodies of the dead. Each a mistake. A thoughtless frantic impulse in a desperate search for meaning and purpose. The nightmares would follow her for the rest of her days. She did not like to sleep. She chose not to remember her dreams.
