This small snippet is actually from the sequel of my first novel (Eyes on Fire) which has yet to be written since EoF isn't even completed. The plot isn't important so much as the emotion. This portion was written during a rather bad night, however the emotion seemed to create this really vivid, tangible scene in my mind. I call this one of my "fits" because I grabbed the computer, wrote this down and then my fingers just stopped.
The blackened sky glared down upon me, boring holes into the dying auburn of my eyes. I hadn’t seen him for weeks, months even. The emptiness was beginning to feel tangible. On nights like these, when the stars traveled close enough in the blanket of sky so that it felt as if all I needed to touch them was to swipe my hand through the air, were the most unreal to me.
If I concentrated hard enough, I could feel the moist line of searing cold dirt beneath my back. A sharp rock cut a swath across my shoulder blade that I had ignored for over an hour. The air stank with the mold and decay of the fallen autumn leaves, as each breath I took became impregnated with the feeling of being below ground. My body was weightless. I had long become the sky and the darkness had consumed me.
I lay on the underbrush for hours trying to become nothing and something all at once. I let my heavy body sink into the harsh ground. My bones were solid as rock, my skin silky, slick moss over a river of swirling, oozing blood like river water. I had a theory that if I became the black that had become our connection, perhaps it would swallow me and lead me to him.
The drowning never came.
My nightly escapades into the engulfing darkness of the Michaux forest only succeeded in leading me to my euphoria of a stiff drink, or four, until I had achieved the vertigo that I craved atop the Downy-scented cotton sheets of my bedroom. Isaac was gone, my connection with him severed. At least, that was what he was leading me to believe. I felt the barrier he had placed between us like endless miles of hot, molten desert of which I could never see the end of. If I ventured forth into it, as I did most nights while trying to find him, I would quickly become lost, disoriented, and banished to the place I had started from by morning. Isaac didn’t want to be found; that much was obvious.