Mai swore. She ran a finger along the jagged edge of a
piece of oiled parchment. The leather
back of her tome mocked her.
“It’s okay, Mai,” she
muttered. “I’ve performed the Ritual a
thousand times. I don’t need that page.”
Mai’s breathing slowed. “No, it can’t be coming this fast.” Her heart crashed against her ribs for
several beats. Then its pumping went
soft. The setting sun, image shimmering
through stained glass, dissolved—along with Mai’s vision. She gurgled.
The maid’s bright laughter
echoed behind her. Mai heard parchment
crumble.
Her other senses bled away,
one at a time.
Hi Patrick, I always find your excerpts super interesting. I am always eager to know what happens next.
ReplyDeleteThanks. I never really thought about what would happen next. I guess I could write something from the maid's POV.
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