It's Still Life

4 of 27: Hollowmere – the colour of joy that never belonged to you

4 of 27: Hollowmere – Joy that never belonged to you

She stands near the cake table with her hands clasped—watching the baby shower unfold in pastel and laughter, cheeks aching from smiling while her insides remember how it felt to cramp and bleed and be told her body wouldn’t hold another chance.

Felreil is there, silent in the doorway, watching the way her gaze flickers when tiny socks are unwrapped and held aloft like treasure, as if every coo and clap doesn’t land like a stone dropped into the hollow of her ribs—like something priceless paraded at market, just out of reach.

She toasts with sparkling cider, and the glass is cold in her hand—too light, as if it knows this celebration was never meant to include her, only to remind her of what almost was.

The room buzzes with joy that she does not resent—that’s the cruelest part—because she loves the woman opening the gifts, loved her through morning sickness and midnight fears, and love doesn’t make the ache any less.

Felreil doesn’t approach, only watches the way she turns slightly away from the group, as if carving out a shadow just wide enough to breathe in.

And when the party ends and no one sees her leave, the wind slips through the door she closes behind her—not like farewell, but like the breath of someone who stayed longer than they should have, just to prove they still could.

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Want to go deeper with Hollowmere? The long-form liturgy for this Colour is here: Read The Liturgy (description) (the liturgy is a stream-of-consciousness poem. If you haven’t read the brief Prologue (or Before) post, it be useful in understanding this series.

Previous Instalments – To access all of the instalments on one page, please use this link

Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “market”.  Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.