When three dogs howl in the night, what's a catgirl to do? Skinned of song, you yowl the blue in your veins like a train whistle exhaling, wailing, disappearing like oxygen that ends in fury, a holy song that confesses what every Tom in the alley knows: hide your heart fearless girl – it's only a short toss into the remaindered hay, for when the winter snows part there are no coffins for strays.
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qbit 
This reads like a cross of “Eli’s Coming” and “Gibsom Street.” So glad you took part!
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“remaindered” – what an adjective for hay! and I love all the sounds you include
“like a train whistle exhaling, wailing,
disappearing like oxygen that ends in fury,,”
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Lolol! Thank you!!
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This is great, qbit. I love the brevity that sacrifices nothing, the clean lines of the portrait you draw, and the bitter truth it shares with Nyro’s own work. I also heard the train whistle blues in that list, but mine is the frozen kind and yours is as hot as New Orleans at midnight. Loved it.
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Your use of the words is absolutely brilliant Qbit! Love the message that it holds!
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… a short toss into the hay!!! Think of the possibilities. WINNER.
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Ahahaha! Thanks!!!
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This is stunning, qbit! That killer first line got my attention immediately:
“When three dogs howl in the night, what’s a catgirl to do?” and then it opens out into some surreal scene of some dystopian film.
Great write! 😀
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Oh I enjoyed this! I could hear her voice coming through your lines, losing nothing of its emotional weight. My favorite: “you yowl the blue in your veins.” Awesome.
Pax,
Dora
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Thank you!
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