Resentment

Simply loved this. It describes the feeling perfectly.

Lambros

resentment1

It was a tightly shut box; the dusty tape binding its upper flaps stubborn, taut. It was not huge;  as it was to be placed in the hollow of his chest. Its contents, mysterious, unknown,  rattled slightly while being placed; the sound almost blasphemous in the surrounding emptiness.

Not surprisingly, the box was a snug fit; it seemed as if it had been especially crafted to ford the void in his chest.

What did it hold? What was its story?

Once upon a time, it was an iota of ill-will in the depths of his heart; a meager existence, ignored, not worthy of any attention.

Soon it adopted the role of a seemingly unimportant domino that sets off an entire cascade of dominoes tumbling down – slowly, and slowly, it gnawed upon the flesh, feasting on it, living off it.

Something that had been anything but significant did not take…

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Author: emphadiate

Med student, chai lover, avid reader. Daydreamer extraordinaire. Slightly imbalanced.

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