circulate
The black substance coursed through every fiber of her being, cutting off the circulation of the person she used to be. It was foul and it was ecstasy. It tore her apart and knitted her back together again. She had to have more – yet she could not keep down what she had already tasted.
Marceline’s whole body contracted, her stomach roiling, her mind afire. As the substance had fought going down, it seemed to race back up, until she was coughing it onto the floor in an inky black pool at her feet, much to the horror of her husband.
Just Another Struggling Writer 
Leave a Reply