Fugue

Ok, so this is the Six-sentence story of the week based on nebulous from girlontheedge. I completely forgot about posting this, and linking it, even though I wrote it Sunday night. Grammar is a little choppy, but I didn’t get back to do a full edit, and it felt like I would have to start from scratch to fix it This one is a little out there, you aren’t really sure what is going on, and a lot more is implied than stated. Tell me what you think happened in the comments!

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There was coppery smell that sat heavy in the air, and it made her stomach roll with nausea every time she took in a breath. She noted the high velocity spatter on the walls with disinterest, as she walked towards the front door with the knife still clenched in her hand.

She could feel the warm liquid squelch up out of the carpet between her toes with every step, which was almost as irritating as the way her wet nightgown clung to her, sticky and rapidly cooling. Each tick of the clock hanging on the wall made her clench her teeth a little harder as she couldn’t help but flinch at the sound.

It took her three attempts to open the door as her wet hand slid from the knob, and when she finally got out into the sun she let the knife drop from her hand with a clatter, and basked in the warmth.   She ignored the screams of the neighbors as the fear and anger that had overwhelmed her retreated, giving way to a nebulous feeling that she thought might be happiness.