Garith Darkhold
Dark Kashi
A single slender finger traced over the rim of a small glass. The sweat of the chilled glass made the movement slick to the touch. The sensation of the wetness upon Bix’s finger did not quill her temperament, nor did the caramel liquid that lay within the glass. There were disturbing emotions within her, which she did not understand. It was her hunch; even if she could remember her past it would not help her to understand.
The profound emotions wrenched and churned. It first manifested as a constricting feeling clamping down upon her chest. As if her heart and lungs was going to be crushed under the weight of it all. There was a struggle to breathe, yet Bix still found the strength to continue to trace over the rim of the glass. Could she ever… lay to rest her feelings? Would she always feel this way? It was a hopeless feeling. She was lost, no direction, no purpose. It was not enough to simple survive. Was there something more?
The profound emotions wrenched and churned. It first manifested as a constricting feeling clamping down upon her chest. As if her heart and lungs was going to be crushed under the weight of it all. There was a struggle to breathe, yet Bix still found the strength to continue to trace over the rim of the glass. Could she ever… lay to rest her feelings? Would she always feel this way? It was a hopeless feeling. She was lost, no direction, no purpose. It was not enough to simple survive. Was there something more?