The Lighthouse: Luna

It is with gargantuan effort Luna’s eyelids eventually crack open.  Heavy and slick, she notes a greasy residue upon them, congealing around the corners and between the lids.

From somewhere above a light flickers as the room swims around her listless body; heart fluttering, a beating of wings.

A robe of cold moonlit air rushes to cloak her body through the broken window, a deluge of broken glass littering the bare floor.

Thick arms of ribbon hold her tightly against the table.

Anger amasses in the pit of her stomach, a swarm of bees raising the alarm.  She almost expects such splendid creatures to pour forth as her cracked mouth opens but instead recoils in shock to discover the volume with which her screams echo through the room and out into the evening sky.

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