#084 Euridice

My lover’s hand is clammy, his fear equal to mine as we tread through the underground. He sings a song -so beautifully- to quench my fear.

“Please hold onto my hand but don’t look back, for I fear what will happen,” I whisper.

He does not. Not until I trip over the uneven road with an anguished moan. My hand slips out of his. He turns to see if I’m okay. Dread claws at me, I can feel its tendrils reaching for me from the darkness. His heartbroken expression is the last I see as I fade into bittersweet nothingness.