The whites of eyes

And gracefully, I fell. The white of her eyes showing through the holes in my chest. A touch of sinew hangs from one of my calves, as severed, I attempt to make it work. The muscles pull taut, and then softly snap, and I pitch forward.

And as the rain struck my back like a thousand lashings of the unconscionably dark night, my hands shook. The rain fell harder, and I lowered my head.
“Why am I doing this? It gives me no pleasure.”
And then the dark light from streetlights surrounding consumed me.

She, being the victor of the hunt, lunged in for the kill.

(IMAGE SOURCE: BBC America.)

Words from me:
Not much to say, I know the image doesnt really fit, but I like it. Nothing particularly unusual to report today, I hope you are all going well.