#Yes this meme is probably over Yes im gonna post a couple now before ditching to start my essay

[bythepowerof4]

above, there is an attic.

TURN IT ON.

moire snaps her gum, a sharp pop over the always-buzzing space heater. can’t risk the machine freezing up. “am no’ allowed.”

PLEASE HURRY.

“they’ll do it soon,” she says, eyes rolling. “keep yer tits on.” the little red dot starts scrawling faster, squeaking against the foggy mirror.

NOT THEM! GOT2BE U!

she asked once why they couldn’t move the machine somewhere warm, somewhere sea spray doesn’t drip down from the rafters. she asked why they came here in the first place, and woke up to a padlock on the attic’s trapdoor. they’re gonna notice she broke it.

U GOTTA BRING ME BACK, the dot writes; fast and then slow, sparse and then cramped in the dwindling mirror space. moire tilts her head.

“from where?”

the red hesitates. moire knocks her foot against the mirror’s, hardly disappointed. it never answers that one. “it’s alright,” she sighs. “can tell me when ye get here.”

the glass is webbed over with words, every stroke a cut-apart-portrait: flannel, freckles, sharp cut shoulder. the blood red fingertip draws a smile in the last free space, and moire smiles softly back.