Status: hiatus
Marrow
PROLOGUE
You can come in, now. I’m so glad you’re here.”
He doesn’t really want to be here. In his nineteen years, he has ingested enough of that decaying-flesh-and-antiseptic hospital smell to last a lifetime.
Around the door and on the bed, a boy is lying spread out like a pale angel of death. His eyes are more sunken than he remembers, and his skin is covered in goose bumps.
“Isn’t this a thrill,” the boy says, eyes still closed and mouth twisted up, “just inches away.”
“Not really.” he replies, because when you know the inside of someone’s elbows like the streets of your neighbourhood, there’s nothing else you can say, except for goodbye.
He doesn’t really want to be here. In his nineteen years, he has ingested enough of that decaying-flesh-and-antiseptic hospital smell to last a lifetime.
Around the door and on the bed, a boy is lying spread out like a pale angel of death. His eyes are more sunken than he remembers, and his skin is covered in goose bumps.
“Isn’t this a thrill,” the boy says, eyes still closed and mouth twisted up, “just inches away.”
“Not really.” he replies, because when you know the inside of someone’s elbows like the streets of your neighbourhood, there’s nothing else you can say, except for goodbye.