The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

feeling (poem)

Nov
24
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For Lorden

Jan
07

This is what keeps you alive. You breathe in the stale, bloodstained air—the smell of iron and sweat—and you press down with even pressure on her wound as you listen to her shallow breaths. You can already see the fever in her glazed eyes and flushed face. It doesn’t matter if you can’t actually smell the infection yet.

(more…)

Healing Moment

Feb
20

He knew it was a bad decision the moment he did it. It had been months since the last time Rhezere contemplated the knives in the drawer with more than clinical disinterest in slicing food. Now, the blood welled up over his fingers as he cradled his arm and stared down at it.

He felt nothing, then sudden overwhelming panic flooded into the spaces where his heart was numb.

He went without thinking, moving quickly into Kasuru’s office where he was meeting with the ship builder Nanere.

She stared.

Kasuru said nothing, just pulled Rhezere to the space beside him and took down the healing scanner, a steadying hand firm on Rhezere’s shoulder.

Nanere dropped her gaze back to the plans they’d been discussing. Kasuru patiently ran over the arm until the wound no longer gaped. The flesh still looked raw and blotchy, less severe but not fully healed.

Kasuru wrapped it in bandages, then tucked his fingers under Rhezere’s chin to draw his gaze up. “We’ll let it rest overnight then look at it again.”

Nothing could be healed in a moment.

Rhezere knew that. Something inside him eased at realizing he’d been willing to be healed at all.