Unsettled Brokeness!

I find this work particularly a little disturbing...my writing prompt was simply to write how a broken plate would feel and this is what I wrote. I honestly find dark writing refreshing sometimes, it breathes in me at times, so I hope you like it, and don't find me to crazy...

She stopped stirring the stew when she heard a hard shatter of the crumbling plate on the tile floor. A shiver of irritation fluttered up her back and she swore beneath her breath! Walking around the other side of the island she saw Sally, her hefty black lab, sitting poised on her haunches, face downcast, ears pinned back in sorrow and fear of the tragedy that befell due to her overly excited wagging tail. Millie looked pititfully at the dog, a warmth of compassion eased through her veins, easing the tension in her shoulders and back. She took the tustled face of the lab into her hands, digging her well manicured nails in the silky fir behind her ears, she gently scratched and pulled..."It's all right old girl, that tail often gets the best of you." Through comforting words and a great deal of scratching the tail that once lay limp and dead on the floor came to life with a "Thump! Thump!", and Sally trotted off to find something else she might destroy.

Millie took a deep breath as she turned her attention back to the shattered pieces on the ground. She pulled the trashcan from under the sink and began to pick up the larger pieces of glass.

The pieces were cool and slick like fine polished ice. Millie traced the shattered edge with her finger. It was rugged and unkempt. Unruley and dangerous, one wrong move and a swell of thick red blood would be dripping from her index finger. She picked up an oblong piece obviously cut from the center of the plate because unlike the outer edges their was no smooth surface for her finger to trace. She had a shocking cool urge to wrap her fingers around the fierce glass and squeeze until great red pools spilled up and over and trickled down her arm. She lost all sense of time, all sense of thought! Her focus was one with the shard of glass she held in her hand. It captivated her the way it caught the light and sent glimmering flecks shooting across her wall, bubbling, swirling, dancing, in an erotic and mournful tone!

Should she cut to feel that which is unreal. How she longed to feel anything. She pressed the brokeness to her face, allowing the cool sensation to crawl along the edges of her nose, curve and crawl along her pale pink lips, draw out the heat from her forehead. The tears that were held captive behind hallow grey eyes finally spilled forth. They may never get the chance to break free again. She heaved forth her sorrow, tears dripping off her chin, slipping and sliding through her fingers, over and through the broken plate in her hand. All the water in the world seemed to flow through her, until she was dry like a desert land! She lay on the floor of brokeness, tiny shards digging pulling stretching piercing her lightly tanned skin, heaving spoonfulls of life and death...Sally was whimpering in the hallway...

...A sumptious feast of stew, freshly tossed salad, and homemade rolls set before them. A cinnamon apple pie set cooling in the kitchen, vanilla ice cream sat in the freezer in case he desired a feast a la mode. She wore a white dress with crisp bunches of red cherries stitched on it, hair loose and flowing, dark lumps of curls twisting about her neck. Her red lips parted...drinking sips of water, taking in bits of food, and revealing faded white teeth in akward smiles. Tears once more injailed by hallow grey eyes. She sat poised while she thought of broken pieces of her Mother's plate sitting in the belly of her cream colored trash can. "Millie, will you please pass the rolls", her Father said barely looking at her. She did as he asked, wincing as her bandaged hand caught around the plate of rolls, stretching pinching writhing...in her brokeness!