• thecriticismdumpling 10w

    I lay there, blue and frigid, as the flowing waters divided into streams that engulfed me. Red, red waters. It had to be done. But doing that was hard, though it should not have been harder than swatting a mayfly. A life is a life, any life is a life. “A life for a life,” they had said, and I had obliged. I just did not know I was sacrificing my own.