inkmothwitch
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When Dess threw the keys through their window they picked them up and let the sharp edge bite into their fingers. She entered, cocky and proud, already flipping to a pre-written page of her notebook: Want to get out of this fucking town?
“How long?” Their voice croaked.
She shrugged, flipped to the next page, where she’d already written, ‘til I come up with a better idea.
They stood. Slipped their phone into their pocket, picked a random assortment of clothing off their floor, and placed their hand into hers. She fizzed against them. Some sort of excitement. It was a sound they’d never heard from her before.
When she led them out the window they didn’t even think to look back.
(After the end of the world, Kris and Dess go on a road trip.)
Bookmarked by inkmothwitch
20 Jun 2026
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It's not December Holiday. It's Dess. She's only ever wanted to be Dess.
(On growing up in a small and stuffy town, lacking the language for what it is that makes the world so wrong, when you know you're the only one right. Maybe Dess just has to hit everything harder. If she hits it first, it can't hit back. If she drowns it all out, she won't ever drown at all.
She is so, so tired, of people she doesn't even like calling her December.)
Bookmarked by inkmothwitch
20 Jun 2026
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Everyone tries to understand Kris. Something is always in the way.
Bookmarked by inkmothwitch
19 Jun 2026
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Noelle tries to understand Kris. There is no longer anything in the way.
Bookmarked by inkmothwitch
19 Jun 2026
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You are Noelle.
There is something under your bed.
They will not leave.
Bookmarked by inkmothwitch
19 Jun 2026