A Slice of Death. A small excerpt from a current project.

My fingers tingled as I touched her skin. I thought this would feel a bit odd but I was s wrong; it’s incredibly odd. She had only fallen asleep but an hour ago. She will sleep longer now. Much longer. I had come for the book but was quickly distracted by this slumbering angel. I quelled an inner turmoil that raged inside me to reveal my self to her as she strolled about her home unaware of my presence. I hid behind an antique armoire until she was fully asleep. The dream she is having now will be her reality for all eternity. Pity, I would like to have known her. She wasn’t supposed to be home. I cursed myself for not being prepared for this mishap and stuffed the book into my bag. There was a half finished glass of warm whiskey on her night stand. Seeing this made me somewhat sad. Had her life been so terrible that she required this to dull some unknown pain? In her honor, I finished it for her. Bourbon, nothing exotic. It was then that I noticed a framed photo set on top of her dresser and moved closer to view it. She was smiling under a cold winter sun, next to a man I knew nothing about. They seemed happy enough then. I went back to sit beside her on her bed. She was still warm. Some other unworthy individual might be so inclined to perform some repulsive act. Not me. I wished to keep her. He skin glistened with a iridescence that seemed to illuminate from within. She may be gone, but she wasn’t coming home, not tonight anyway.


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