Sunday, July 13, 2008

Thoughts of Murder


She knew she wanted to kill him, the moment he pressed his knuckles into the delicate hollow of her throat. Possibly by bullet; a crimson stain seeping across his stark white shirt. His rough hands loosen clenched thighs or she could delight in the sweet sound of bones cracking as he
falls in a silent heap at the bottom of the stair, such searing stabbing pain, ah, that delicious pop as she pierces his tender flesh, pressed against her his breath smells of whiskey
and stale cigarettes or maybe a satisfying crushing blow of a blunt instrument. A look of fear snakes across his face; there is violence behind those once tender and laughing eyes.




photo from Deviant Art

8 comments:

June said...

You got my attention! Scary stuff...

paisley said...

excellently crafted... i really like this..

Michelle said...

Psycho, yet I understand why she thinks of murder... what a bastard!

rebecca said...

that photo, my god, just brought home your words more potently! this was good, really good ... what did that creep do to her? hmm, i can only imagine. bravo, chica, well done!

sidhubaba said...

Goosebumps. Very nice.

Nathan said...

Violent and articulate -- great writing

Cynthia said...

oooh, very strong piece white rose.

White Rose said...

Hey, thanks everyone for the great comments. I was a bit nervous putting this out there. I don't go around thinking of murdering someone!

I wanted to convey a bit of a power struggle.