Not from the sky


The wreckage was absolute. Couldn’t discern the cause only the carnage. The organs were lying exposed to the air. Their meaty texture wasn’t like in the movies. More of a matte complexion rather than glossy from blood. This didn’t just happen. The blood looked black. Everywhere. Like oil slicked over the concrete and coloring the rocks stuck in time. Tried not to step in it as I moved for a closer look. Obviously nothing could be done but morbid curiosity led the way. The hand was crushed and I flexed mine to convince the brain that it wasn't my hand lying there shattered. One of my worst nightmares. Hands. And hearts. As if thinking that word it comes into view. Still in the chest cavity but silent. Exposed. Knees pop as I crouch down. Eyes scan the horizon but it's empty. Shouldn’t it smell? I heard it’s supposed to smell like pennies. That’s when my eyes fell onto mirrors painted blue.

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