Given a photograph to describe.
It was a badly taken picture. What better could you expect on such a cold rainy night? The lighting was bad. The outline blurred. The only thing you could really see were the red dots of flowers.
"I couldn't see properly through the wire", he complained. "They were hidden really. I wanted to capture..." Oh! Never mind! I can never prove it now. I was far far away and even if I went back, there was no way.
He put his hand on my shoulder. It was time to get out, escape this horrid dungeon. I remembered the words of a song I had heard ages ago. " Wake up, It's time, It's time to find a better place to hide. Make up your mind, I need to know, I need to know tonight."
Razor—that's it! That's the name of the song. Hmmm....I hummed it softly. "Shh", he silenced. Footsteps in the distance, no—just paws, a stray dog. He led me out, his hand still on my shoulder. The cold wind hit my unprotected face. It felt good. It was the first time in days that I felt so alive, so human.
I put the picture back in my pocket hoping one day to be back. Did I really think I could reach that far without being caught? The truth was I did. I dared to hope that much. It was a wild thought. I hid it.
We stopped. I felt him take his hand off my shoulder. Can I speak now? I didn't know how close we were.
Her eyes—almond-shaped—Those were the only features I could remember and now all I had was a badly taken picture of the flowers in our garden. I remember the last day I spent with her. There was just a most gorgeous sunset...Almost as red as her blood...but no, not nearly as beautiful.
I don't remember what she was wearing or what her last words were but I know she suffered. The blood said so. That's the last thing I could remember, the redness of her blood. And now I was going to be caught, caught and punished for killing my daughter. But it was not me, I swear, it wasn't me. It was the wire that did it. The barb wire.
Short story by Parnika
Read 1039 times
Written on 2007-01-09 at 19:05
Tags Murder Wire Hide
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The Picture
The PictureIt was a badly taken picture. What better could you expect on such a cold rainy night? The lighting was bad. The outline blurred. The only thing you could really see were the red dots of flowers.
"I couldn't see properly through the wire", he complained. "They were hidden really. I wanted to capture..." Oh! Never mind! I can never prove it now. I was far far away and even if I went back, there was no way.
He put his hand on my shoulder. It was time to get out, escape this horrid dungeon. I remembered the words of a song I had heard ages ago. " Wake up, It's time, It's time to find a better place to hide. Make up your mind, I need to know, I need to know tonight."
Razor—that's it! That's the name of the song. Hmmm....I hummed it softly. "Shh", he silenced. Footsteps in the distance, no—just paws, a stray dog. He led me out, his hand still on my shoulder. The cold wind hit my unprotected face. It felt good. It was the first time in days that I felt so alive, so human.
I put the picture back in my pocket hoping one day to be back. Did I really think I could reach that far without being caught? The truth was I did. I dared to hope that much. It was a wild thought. I hid it.
We stopped. I felt him take his hand off my shoulder. Can I speak now? I didn't know how close we were.
Her eyes—almond-shaped—Those were the only features I could remember and now all I had was a badly taken picture of the flowers in our garden. I remember the last day I spent with her. There was just a most gorgeous sunset...Almost as red as her blood...but no, not nearly as beautiful.
I don't remember what she was wearing or what her last words were but I know she suffered. The blood said so. That's the last thing I could remember, the redness of her blood. And now I was going to be caught, caught and punished for killing my daughter. But it was not me, I swear, it wasn't me. It was the wire that did it. The barb wire.
Short story by Parnika
Read 1039 times
Written on 2007-01-09 at 19:05
Tags Murder Wire Hide
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 by Parnika Latest textsWelcome to LifeStop! Depression I'll fall in love someday Love Hurts |
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