TwoSentenceSadness

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The drive home began, achingly, all life replaced with emptiness, her hands sitting prone and blank over a belly missing half its was-familiar and sickly weight.	43
A hot pellet of depravity sunk through the little girl as her mother was taken, in her finest gown and manacles, up to the high balcony over the courtyard, blood-let and petrified.	33
The smell of the ports faded with each step toward the heaving whale, hot and bereaved, clutching out with each breath at a sea just too far from reach.	30
An abandoned engine, so rust-pilfered it was verdigris, sat in the hinterland, grass and amaranth overflowing about it.	23
She heaved in a hollow, quivering sigh, snared by the blue negative line, the little hook catching her heart by the swerve of its fat pouty lip.	13
The high rise, drenched in the cagey, stratified light of the skyscrapers and the downtown, was eddying and intensifying under her manic glare.	11
The drive home from the hospital, harsh as it was, could not compare to her new listlessness: balking out the wide French windowsill, half-blind, red sun crashing in unflinching waves over the street, suburb pedestrians, project housing until all was red and gilt-golden, in a frenetic bloodbath.	11
Restless blood—bmnbm—rushed out in a fever, a feeding frenzy all—bmnbm—violent, rhythmic, tender like a—bmnbm—butterfly teetering, wading into the wind.	10
There where we were laying—smoke colored grass; rust eaten swing set; long, black lake—high out of our minds, were a million bouncing stars, strands of electricity bobbing and galloping across my vision, reflecting off your liquid blue eyes, twin endless and dead oceans, delicately suspended.	9
What a sight it must have been for some sorry, terrified fledgling-feathered lump (half winged, big weepy eyes lolling) to tumble so far down from the face of her mother, screwed with despair.	8

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