I know what the problem is, she is congested. Sick with the flu, with aches and pains demolishing every blood cell that is set to fight for her. They are doomed because of her thrill to touch. They are doomed because her finger tips danced along the brim of every indulgence. She lived in the moment. No mere future or past could interpret her captured moment. That is how her blood cells were doomed. The day when she lived in the moment and died.
But the moment was not hers. The moment did not belong to her. The moment was not meant for her. It was not meant for her the second she couldn't breath. The very second she could taste the vile and feel it in between her legs. It seemed as though it was everything she had dreamed about every night. With a teddy bear to cuddle with and a pillow to clutch on to. To her It was more than just a dream because it was meant to be lived.
So, there she was, with her moment, but never thought about what happens next,
What to do.... next. Next is such a scary word for someone who doesn't know what that means for them. It's so scary because it's an aggressive attack on the moment. It unveils everything she was comfortable with knowing. It uncovers everything she knows until she knows nothing at all.
She lives with the flu, but something phenomenal happens,
The flu isn't the flu anymore, but it instead becomes encrypted into the vessels of her consciousness. It is a reminder of that moment, it will continue to live in her consciousness until her moment, is actually fulfilled.
But that is what made her, someone else. She died when she discovered that the moment, did not belong to her. It died once she realized that everyone is armed with moments and they utilize these moments to kill one another and also themselves.
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