The violin bow played its merry jig over her wrists, as the pain slowly oozed from her body. She lay in a cold tub, with the twilight breeze from the open window ravaging her exposed form. A smile rested on her paling lips as the concerto soothed her into sleep, and she slowly slipped down into the warm bath. Silence ruled the air; her song was done. She crossed her arms over her chest, as the last drops of warmth dribbled over her skin. The white tile of the room belied no emotion as she closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
His riding boots banged up the stairs as hurried and unceremoniously as a panicked heart. A heart that was bleeding, for he already knew how this story would end. A door presumed to stop him, but a sound kick to its knees brought it quickly to the ground. He burst into the room, searching so hard he forgot to breathe. Where was she? He shouted her name, and began running in every direction until he came to another closed door. It was the bathroom, and even in his altered state, his sense of intimacy and decorum forced him to knock and shout.
But there was no answer. He shouted louder, as if he had misread dead for deaf. Turning and gaining enough space, he smashed the door inwards and stumbled into the small room. The sight nearly tripped him where he stood.
The sun was setting beyond the window, offering a wonderful spectacle for those with leisure to admire. Green hills rolled down to the lake that embraced the small… Continue Reading…