© Copyright 2006 by Kendra Cornell
Inside the house, madness and rage reigned.
He thrashed her bedroom, his fury growing with his every breath. He ripped Karen’s clothing and tossed her mattress up against the wall. Her perfume bottles were smashed, and the sickly sweet smell rose up from the jagged shards. She got away. She got away. She got away. It became his mantra as liquid violence flowed through his blood, and surged with every heartbeat.
When the squealing tires announced her departure, he had run to the front door and thrown it open. Stupid… someone could have seen me. So stupid. Without logical thought, he then returned to assuage the frenzy of rage that grew in the pit of his soul. She was so close. I was so close. I could’ve had her. He imagined how her flowing tresses would have looked streaming through his black-leather clad fingers, and the resultant tremor in his hands was as pleasurable as if it had actually happened. The clash of senses jarred the torrent inside of him.
So odd, he thought, how fantasy and reality have become so intertwined… His eyes fell on a small, heart-shaped pillow that lay at his feet. He picked it up and tucked it gently into his back pocket before he silently left the house through the shattered living room window and melted into the night’s shadows.
HEY! and don't forget to e-mail Kendra Cornell if you have a comment! She would really like to hear from you.
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