evermorefire
There are fences where there should be walls, fragile things with holes where there should be iron locks.
Thin wires separate there and here, you and me, and I can see you clearly. I can see, but not touch, not feel in the slightest. There is nothing. There is a fence, and there is you, and there is me.
I see through jagged gaps and realize fences work just as well as walls. Just as well, albeit in a crueler manner.
It wasn't supposed to turn out this way, she knows. She knows in a way she can't explain.
(plan a, plan b, plan c...)
There had been a plan--a solid plan.
(...plan d, plan e, plan f...)
And this wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't, it wasn't, itwasn'twasn'twasn't--
(her list, her list, where did all the numbers go?)
--but she'd been off schedule for a while.
There is a line.
There is a line that wasn't there before.
There is a line that wasn't there before and you cannot remember.
There is a line that wasn't there before and you cannot remember what it was like before.
There is a line that wasn't there before and you cannot remember what it was like before the line was there.
There is a line.
And it is dividing you in halves.