10-07-2019, 06:57 PM
The diminutive woman contemplated the heavy curtains covering the wall behind the bed for a long, drawn out length of time. Once, she thought they were beautiful. Thick and soft against her fingertips when she woke and stretched in the mornings, they were a rich, dark crimson usually associated with both love and anger. She no longer saw the beauty in those curtains or in the luxurious bed in front of them. And so, she drew a candle from her bag and lit the wick, holding it carefully in one small hand as the flame drew her eyes away from the curtains. She contemplated that flame almost as long, as the shadows flickered over angular features and a stubbornly set jaw.
It went quickly, when she finally dared to touch the flame to the curtains. A rush of heat and smoke and flames licked up the wall and over the carefully constructed bed. The wood slowly turned black from the acrid smoke before the flames took it all, turning both frame and mattress to ash and then greedily licking at the floor beneath. She watched as long as she dared before turning to walk silently out of the room, pausing only long enough unclasp the necklace from her throat and carelessly let it fall to hit the wood floor with a soft clank of metal.
She left a note by the chair where he liked to read, unless the fire spreads far enough to incinerate the parchment, she would leave no doubt of her reasoning behind such destruction nor any doubt of how she felt about his lies and his winged whore.
It went quickly, when she finally dared to touch the flame to the curtains. A rush of heat and smoke and flames licked up the wall and over the carefully constructed bed. The wood slowly turned black from the acrid smoke before the flames took it all, turning both frame and mattress to ash and then greedily licking at the floor beneath. She watched as long as she dared before turning to walk silently out of the room, pausing only long enough unclasp the necklace from her throat and carelessly let it fall to hit the wood floor with a soft clank of metal.
She left a note by the chair where he liked to read, unless the fire spreads far enough to incinerate the parchment, she would leave no doubt of her reasoning behind such destruction nor any doubt of how she felt about his lies and his winged whore.