PART 8 Casualty -- Obsessive Endeavors from The Chair

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Date Posted: 16:24:17 06/16/02 Sun
Author: voodoodolly
Subject: PART 8 Casualty
In reply to: VoodooDolly 's message, "Casualty" on 20:20:15 06/02/02 Sun

Casualty

Part 8

Fragments of porcelain shattered across the kitchen�s dark marble floor. Clenching the counter, she felt as if struck in the stomach. No one was there to see her stagger, over the remains of the broken teacup. No one heard as it crushed underneath the black shoes.

Ashen and queasy she lay down on the bed, in her dim oppressive bedroom.

Implied sketches of an omitted time flew around the outskirts of her mind. Engaging her senses, molesting her ability to focus. Hours went by as if days, moments as if hours.

Somehow, she didn�t need more than the slender murmur of moonlight. It slipped in as a consolation. Moving about unhurriedly, packing her few belongings.

Moving towards the back of the house. Black leather, suddenly, tenderly, on her arm.

Nottingham.

A severe eruption of sound, sensation, visions. She saw them talking. A sincerely mutual distress. Roses in crystal. A cane.

Noiselessly he guided her to the front door. A cab waited outside.

Without question she got in. He spoke to the driver, she didn�t bother to listen.

The need to escape caused her breath to be brutally force through her lungs. Demanding and painful. Looking out the window she saw Kenneth Irons standing in a high window. One of his bedrooms.

She didn�t need to be able to see the expression on his face. Disappointment leaked through the distance separating them, to embalm her.

Still she did not move.

In an instant his face was close to hers, his breath on her neck. Closing her eyes she tried to dispute the sensations constructed from illusion or perhaps memory.

The impression of his hand, relentlessly on her breast.

From his position he imposed these senses onto her. As she trembled, consumed by trance, he smiled.

Slowly, her hand trailed to the door handle. The idea of losing something very vital struck.

Her heart broke.

There was no way to place the feelings, the reflections in any linier arrangement. Trepidation and grief remained most vivid. They were substances, all she had, all she could rely on. Those feeling incited the urge to flee.

Placing her palm against the cool glass of the window then turning her view towards the gate. The cab slowly pulled away.

It started to rain.

The End?

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Replies:

Re: PART 8 Casualty -- Jenileigh, 21:51:59 06/27/02 Thu
Re: PART 8 Casualty -- miculawitch, 04:21:34 07/14/02 Sun