That's All I Have to Say for Now: A Book of Snippets [Random Updates]

18. Misery

A glass jar sits atop the empty bookshelf. Inside, gossamer threads of colors swirl in a steady rhythm.

The door creaks open.

A hooded figure, small and sharp, walks toward the bookshelf. In her hand, she holds a glass jar. Black tendrils fling itself onto the glass, over and over, coating the inside with gray slime.

The jar holds. So does her grip.

She places it below the other.

The black mist stills.

In the glass jar above, the swirls slow. Darken. Thicken.

She turns and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her.