Stretching My Fingers

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​Something I felt to let out of my fingertips today while at work. Just needed to stretch my fingers a bit. I didn’t really proof read or anything. It’s all just for fun.


Her eyes, nearly blinded by swollen tears, carefully crept above the seat. It was dark and there was a parade of headlights behind her. These low-beams, they swayed and twinkled like Christmas lights in a soft, winter wind. Somehow, a peaceful feeling lingered above the highway but she knew. Somewhere. He was there. Among the shadows and the neverending trail of headlights, she could feel it. His presence.

A throat cleared in the front of the car and caused one fearful tear to lose it’s grip and fall to her cheek. She wiped it from her face by brushing her skin along the stale fabric of the backseat before peering over her shoulder at two shadowy figures whose features were only minorly luminated by the dashboard.

“You’re safe now, ” the man in the passenger seat spoke to the rearview mirror. His voice was strange but calm. Almost reassuring. “You should rest”

She didn’t speak. Instead, she turned once again to the back windshield and stared silently.

“Don’t worry,” another voice instructed, this time a woman – the driver. Her voice was less reassuring than the man’s but the two seemed in agreeance that everything was going to be alright.

With quiet breaths she allowed herself one last look at the sea of cars before slowly lowering her body down into the seat and turning to watch the backs of the two in front. But still she knew – he was there. She felt it. Her heart raced and, attempting to soothe it, she slid one arm under her head to act as a pillow and the other she allowed to fall to the floorboard. Tracing symbols in the gristle with closed eyes slowly began to ease her mind. What must have been receipts and spare change bumped into her index finger as she wrote familiar words. With each letter or loop or figure she found new ways to breathe and convince herself the worst was over and it worked.

The others must have began to notice as the backseat fell still and silent. Their words, though sparse, were respectful of her sleep-like state. Her hand no longer traced through dirt and knickels. Steady was her heart. Soft were their words. Silent breaths escaped her open mouth.

Still respectful and hushed the man spoke.

“We have to hurry.”

The lady reassured him with a more silent whisper.

“She’ll die soon enough. We’re almost there”

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