Elise Hanson

Tais Toi Mon Cœur

All he had to do was move, twitch, undulate. No one said undulate. But that's what he needed to do. It was only a little thing, such a little thing. Surely he could accomplish one little thing. He had done it before, surely. He had some vague memory of it. Was memory the right word? Those things like echoing dreams, like nudges formed from electricity and neurons. A curse. Memory was a curse. He thought maybe he could remember memory. It was only a simple thing, such a simple thing.