Fragment 20

Cupping the bowl as though it were a frangible, precious thing in a pair of diminutive, death-pale hands.

It peers unblinking up at the taller Umin, by a head’s height, aspect an unreadable mask.

Only for the briefest of moments as the bow of its lips bends into a smouldering little smile, somewhere between beatific and base.

fiction

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Jay Lonnquist

Poet / Designer / Developer / Coder

A dark, fantastical tale that is intended to unfold a paragraph, or thereabouts, at a time.

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