No. 17

He met her at the corner, stumbling about in shoes with heels too high. Her skirt was pushed about her legs by the wind, she pulled her coat tighter against her body, then blew hot breath onto her fingers. She took his gloved hand and leaned into him while they walked, their silhouettes wrapping around lampposts and hiding beneath abandoned cars in the sallow light. 

 

Outside his door, she slipped out of her shoes and kissed him on the temple. He fumbled with the keys because he was telling her about his fondness for her smile. To this, she rolled her eyes and laughed at his attempt at romance. He grinned and they went inside.

 

He was tall and lean and fair. His eyes were bright from the cold outside, his cheeks flushed, lips very red, oatmealy hair windblown, wearing two scarves because of the weather and waving his hands about as he spoke. He was the type that leaned in close, head tilted, to give a hesitant smile.

 

The spoke briefly about jazz, money, perfumes, politics, romance and then the girl with the long dark hair and the voice that reminded him of his mother, who was swaying and thinking nostalgically of a few moments before, began to cry.

 

He pulled deep from his pocket a Walther P99 pistol; it was wrapped in a soft, worn handkerchief that he had taken from her drawer that morning. She grabbed it back and then, together, they admired the sleek, black handle. She placed her hand on the barrel; it was cold beneath her touch. She held it up to her face. She could smell it, almost taste it; a bitter, metallic rawness. He took it from her, roughly she thought. He looked at her intensely. She licked her top lip and pushed the hair slowly back from her face. She nodded. He pulled the trigger. She fell, beautifully he thought. The moments before she hit the floor felt infinite and still and silent to him.

 

Back into his pocket he placed his compassion next to a paperback copy of Shakespeares’ ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and a few cigarettes. He bit his lip, drew blood smudged roughly against coarse skin with two fingers, smiled at the salty taste and left.

Author's Note

all comments welcome

Reviews

[Matthew Young]

haha excellent! loved the plot twist, never saw it coming.

[J. Swaney]

There is so much about this piece to like. The oatmealy hair, the descriptions of the characters, and all of the questions upon completion of the piece.

Excellent work.

JS

[Michael X]

lol.. loved it... sincerely.. how absolaute tragic, do people ever learn,
cold blooded and dramatic, this writing simply left me reeling, Great Job.

[Windy]

whoa, wasn't quite ready for that! Started out kind of like 'date' and ended up as a "date with death". In Romeo and Juliette didn't they die for one another not one kill the other and then walk away?? Interesting little story!!

[Gabrielle]

wow...this blew me away.

Cannot express how deeply this moved me.

[Samuel Dickens]

A good write, although there is ambiguity in your first sentence. It sounds as if he is stumbling about in shoes with heels too high. Whoever he was, I hope they take his little gun and try him for murder.