She sat in the shower, 60 bpm sustaining the rhythm of the water against her skin and the melody whispering from her phone. She watched time and thoughts and water and dirt and blood vortex down the drain. In the end, they all became one and were gone.
Steady, steady.
Katelyn Simpson lives with her family in Cincinnati, Ohio. She has worked in many fields, from theater technical directing to expediter advertising. She enjoys reading, writing, crafting, traveling, and food.
“Did you know fireflies only live three days?” I asked.
He dragged the last of his cigarette and dropped the butt, grinding it with his shoe. “No.”
“Two years as larva, three days with wings. What would you do with only three days?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be talking to you.”
Katelyn Simpson lives with her family in Cincinnati, Ohio. She has worked in many fields, from theater technical directing to expediter advertising. She enjoys reading, writing, crafting, traveling, and fine dining.
Brush to paper, watercolor dripping down,
down,
down her cheek to her chin, pooling with the colors there–
blue hues bleeding back into bark tones, swirling darker and darker.
Lift brush and rinse, dab tissue to chin; soak and suffuse the stirring shades.
There; now no one will ever know.
Katelyn Simpson lives with her family in Cincinnati, Ohio. She has worked in many fields, from theater technical directing to expediter advertising. She enjoys reading, writing, crafting, traveling, and fine dining.