John ballooned into rooms and painted them in bold high gloss colours. His drunken mayhem were hazy memoirs unveiled only for meetings.
The clot swelled like a different kind of balloon.
New memories of comfort and good food stretched inside him now. And she may have hard knuckles and baggage but she was comforting like the couch; like the cinnamon on her freshly baked buns. Coughing couldn’t propel him from the chair. Booze and drugs and pointless fucking were erased out and re-etched with Greater Powers and his congregations blew up; expanded by his vocalised breaths. It wasn’t enough. TWBD tattooed on his finger wasn’t for this. The ticking clock gained speed and clattered each second like an inflaming bomb.
He would not give himself over.
Sarah Donnelly studied Creative Writing at Lancaster University for two years and graduated with a 1st Class Hons in Literature with the OU. She is now a teacher of Psychology and Literature. Her writing focuses on characters experiencing a shift of the mind.
Read Gone with God by Sarah Donnelly at www.ellipsiszine.com
Illustration by Sarah Donnelly