A/N: This is my first fiction. Kinda cryptic. It's my take on the Batman Episode. Set after 'Ouch!'.
Tears and blood.
Dust. Empty. Dust. Empty.
Is there a clock?
Yes, there was one in the stupid, recently renovated, living room in my own beloved crapshak.
I can't see. Eyes wide shut. Eyes aching shut.
A rock in my breast. A mountain on my breasts.
Has the weather changed? Sounds like rain outside. But it's not outside.
Drin drin. Phone rings.
'Yes mother, hadn't forgot. It was mine the idea. Yes, it's really me, mother.
it was me on the voice mail.
Will be waiting here, and, if you come a little earlier, we'll get some tea.
Yes, mother. We - I - have tea. I have tea. - I'm the only one living here and I have tea.
Herbal tea. No, haven't stop drinking coffee.
I only thought you might enjoy a cup of tea, before we head to the open house.
Yes, mother. It's really me. No, I'm not sick.
I really want to go there with you.
Why on earth would I want that?
Just thought it was nice to go together.
Yes, mother. It's me and I'm not sick.
See you later, mother.'
Tud. Tud. Tud.
It's the rock in my breast.
The dust in my mouth.
The bills I have to pay.
The phone calls to be returned.
A stupid saturday, a lonley woman.
in her pale living room, among pictures and frames.
In front of a fireplace. In front of a goddamn quiet tv. That could even be on.
It wouldn't make the tiniest difference.
Dust. Silent screams. Dry tears and blood.
Cold blood. Like spring water on rocks.
Of tears and blood.
Where did I read that?
Cold. Cold blood.
The memory of a warm body embracing me like last night.
It was comfort. It was safe. It was known.
It was needed.
And I need that.
To feel warm.
Cause the rest, all around, it's uncertain.
Since I just started to walk.
Walk on my own legs.
Why the hell all this cold?
Tud. Tud. Heavy legs. Wooden floor.
Padding to the bathroom.
Not the one upstairs.
Is a bathroom ever too big?
Upstairs is too big for one.
And I'm one.
Rinse your face, Lorelai.
It's still a pretty face.
There are new lines today.
Not wrinkles. Lines.
Lines going their way.
And it's time for you to go your way.
Rinse the blood.
Dry your tears.
Sweep some of this dust off.
It's what humans do.
Grow up. Of Tears and Blood.
As their own hearts should do.
As your own heart will do.