Speak

Posted: October 18, 2007 in Beauty, Dark, Death, Fiction, Imagery, Life, Women

“Speak.”

Echoes from a pistol shot reverberate around the empty cavern, and I stare down at the gun clutched in my hand.

I look at the man floating face down in a pool of rapidly darkening water.

Blood from his head leaks into the pure, untainted underground lake.

I catch a whiff of shampoo, the scent of a woman just stepping out of the shower amidst steam and heat.

Her hair hangs in dark ringlets, her face is impassive.

I know this all from her scent. I still haven’t seen her.

I turn around and she reaches out, taking the pistol from me. She speaks again, again a single word.

“Listen.”

The second pistol report bounces around the cave, and I slowly glance down to see a black stain slowly spreading across my shirt.

She drops the gun.

“Sleep.”

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Comments
  1. axajane says:


    I like how you ended it, not with describing the pain that would entail, but the visual aspects of it.

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