Paul Beach

Sniffy's Icehouse Paul Beach

Her eyes flickered quickly under her eyelids. Raven woke up feeling guilty and confused; then, she pulled the blanket aside, and went out. What a disgusting dream. A mouse had crawled out from between her legs. Up in the sky, a big oak tree was dropping the last of its leaves. A single crimson leaf let go, falling through the lattice of branches, ending its life, and resting on the damp ground like a splash of blood. She watched it fall, then looked at the horizon of fuzzy bare trees. That made her twenty summers old. She fought hard to stay alive all these years and there was nothing to show for it. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Only one of them was unaccounted for, and more importantly, useful. She wasn't going to go to him. Having nobody was better.