Sisterhood

She stared at him out of the paper

And he recognised her eyes,

He knew he’d seen them before, somewhere,

But her face was a different size,

There wasn’t a dimple in the cheek

And her lips were rather thin,

It said that she was her sister, so

He sat, remembering.

The girl that he’d met in the nightclub

Who had stared across the room,

Their eyes had met in a brief vignette

And held, in the smoke-filled gloom,

They’d danced at the end of the evening

And he’d said he’d take her home,

The thought of a kiss from those ruby lips

Had driven his hands to roam.

She’d slapped his face, he remembered that,

But the rest was just a blur,

But now, from out of the newspaper

He was quite entranced by her,

He’d not read much of the article

For his reading skills were slight,

But he made his way to the same lane way

Where he’d held her sister tight.

The house was an old Victorian

With a gable above her room,

He saw the light on that winter’s night

That lit the surrounding gloom,

Her shape appeared in the window frame

As she stared down at the ground,

He thought he knew she would want him to

So he stayed, and hung around.

He stood right under a lamp post and

Was lit by a single beam,

While she stared down from the window, and

He knew that he’d been seen,

The door had creaked as it opened up

And she walked into the lane,

While he, now full of bravado, said,

‘It’s nice to see you, Jane.’

She paused, just inches away from him,

And she said, ‘my name is Joan,

You must have been with my sister 

On that night she was alone.’

He looked confused, and then quite amused

At the harshness in her voice,

Then said, ‘I’d rather have been with you

If I’d only had the choice.’

‘I knew that you would come back one day,

Though I knew you’d take your time,

The killer always comes back, they say

To the place they did the crime.’

He stared right into her eyes just then

And he saw the eyes of Jane,

His fingers wrapping around her neck

As she stared at him in pain.

‘She really shouldn’t have slapped my face,’

He said, ‘it wasn’t right,

All that I did was touch her breast

Before a kiss goodnight.’

But then he staggered in shock and pain

To feel what her sister did,

As the kitchen knife slid in between

His first and his second rib.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Excellent story. Didn't expect the twist at the end.

[Coyote Poetry]

A perfect ending to the poem. Be careful what you say. Woman can be wild cats. Thank you David for sharing the amazing tale. I liked this one.
Coyote

[Avinash]

The unfolding of the story from the perspective of a killer made this work stand apart.

[Einstein Noodle]

thought he was getting away with it again ..good! he got what he deserved ;)
E.