Reincarnated

Reincarnated.

Down the winding road she is standing, a weighty, thick book in her frail hands. The same time everyday she stands in the centre of her overgrown garden. Surrounding the fragile woman are husks of what was once colourful and ethereal.

Now, spindly remains crackle as they try to reach out, but she is blind even through her rounded spectacles.Oh, how her eyes are glazed over, how the wrinkles dimple her skin, how she can’t stop the impending doom from these unforgiven wandering souls.

At her feet lie weeds, tangling betwixt her ankles and tugging her legs together.

The whispers,
“Little Suzy.”
Over and over again. Whilst the book is in her hands, whilst her vermillion dress flutters obliviously in the wind, whilst she seems to reside in a daydream, she whispers:
“Little
Suzy
Fell.”

But her hands never tremble, her feet stay planted and bound with unruly vines, why?

The withered frames of bushes and trees seem to coil like pythons around her, moving in with malicious manner. The nearer they are, the more sunken her glassy eyes become. Until they sink into her head, rolling and passing her their dread, she stands there; tall, thin and wasting.

“Little
Suzy
Fell.”

Her wizened complexion unmoving, she stares almost through the dense paper object pushing down on her palms.

Her nose thins as the cartilage becomes exposed. The trees are tearing away her thin yellowed skin - it rips like parchment. As they tear it her skull emerges; yet her eyes are still there, stationary, stagnant.

Melting.

Slithering are the weeds as they creep, tugging her tiny arms. Onto the floor pool her eyes, but they keep on crawling. The luminescence of these pools fades so abruptly, as if they never shone at all. Because maybe it wasn’t true.

With a soft thud lands her book, into the soil it is pushed by the weeds, it vanishes without a trace.

Coiling.
Aggressively they approach and take hold, the chartreuse arms winding and pulling her dainty joints apart, leaving her limbs hanging limply - dislocated are her shoulders, her elbows bent inwards and her hips swivelled back to front.

“Little Suzy!”

Her voice quivers and her teeth grind together in agony, shattering like glass. For her dismay and nature’s delight she screams for the last time before erupting into a cloud of dust - a clatter and she collapses, a pile of skin and bone.

Then
There
Was
Light.
Suzy.