Blood Ink

image from minutestocountdown.deviantart.com

You can only fold a paper

seven times they say,

but I must have read your letter

a thousand times a day,

until I finally realized

the ink had dried away.

It bled into my hands

and ate away my soul,

until I cried black

and fell into a hole.

The abyss was vast and deep

the feelings began to creep,

until I remembered why

I chose to let you die.

And as I write the letter

the words they come out pink

for only assassin’s blood

can be used for contract ink. 

Mar's Bar

I drink a cocktail of moonlight in this lone bar of Mars. I quickly glance at my wrist to check my messages, and though I know that 40 minutes will pass between each line of conversation, I hope that you will reply before your bedtime. Everyone in the colony is lonely and lost, tired and disillusioned; coming here was a grave mistake. We all knew that now. 

If the possibility of return was minimal before, it was close to none now. The attempt to create a sustainable food source was proving to be difficult. Luckily we had a life supply of Tang that had been sent long before anyone had dreamed of actually transporting life to this red planet. I personally didn’t mind, the strange orange flavor reminded me of my grandfather and his obsession with his childhood favorites from the 70s. He even found a few old videos that had survived the Metallic Freeze and had us watch them, laughing hysterically. If I had known that I’d be drinking the strange Moon people’s drink on Mars, I might have laughed too. 

“Sometimes I wonder if there’s intelligent life on that planet.” 

I wonder that too Orange Man, I wonder that too. 

Twenty-three minutes passed and I received a purple check-mark on my message board; your phone received the message, but was currently in sleep mode. I imagined you in bed, three times the weight, but triple the comfort and softness of our rotting cots. I knew that life would not be glamorous here, but I had expected to feel more glory upon my arrival – to feel… more like a hero to mankind. Instead the monotony of raising plants designed to flourish on florescent light, artificial air, and electrolytes, were proving just as limp as my conscience. 

I never should have left you. I thought to myself as I downed the rest of my drink, glancing through the telescope at the life I left behind. 


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PS. If you want to see the Tang commercial referenced in this story, here's the link. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wf1kw5Yp9Ck  

As always thanks for reading. 

Until next time lovelies,
Raely Marie


Written for the #Nightdwellers #ProseChallenge #beginningline
Original post at https://theprose.com/post/139668/mar-s-bar
Write a piece of literature with the beginning line ‘I DRINK A COCKTAIL OF MOONLIGHT…’ Tag it #nightdwellers #beginningline. http://www.facebook.com/groups/NightdwellersWrites/