Tom Swierzbinski
03-05-2007, 02:56 AM
Had a burst of creativity, so I just wrote a really short story. Its about nobody in particular, just words and ideas that came into my head. If I write any more, Ill post it here (probably wont be until Tuesday, Im now out of weed :( )
She stood naked in the doorway, beautiful as polished glass. Her hair still shimmering from the wetness of the shower she had just taken, I kissed her passionately on the lips. I hadn’t kissed this girl for over two years, and now I was back in her arms again. As we parted, I noticed something.
She kissed in a different style than she did two years ago.
I felt a nudge in the small of my back, a gentle reminder of what I was here to do. For a few seconds, I didn’t have it. It only took me a split second to come to my senses. I stared longing into her eyes; love had infatuated both of us.
“I’m sorry”.
I pulled the Smith and Wesson revolver out from my jeans, stepped back a few paces, and bought the weapon up to aim. I flicked the safety off, pulled the hammer back and rested my finger on the trigger. Gently does it, I don’t want to rush things now. A few more seconds passed, her standing there with a look of horror on her face, me looking down the sights of the revolver. She started to open her mouth. What would come out, I would never know.
A single shot rang out in her house. The smoke cleared, and she had gone. I felt a smatter of blood hit my face. Warm, almost cosy. I wanted to look down; I always looked at the body before leaving. It was a thing I did. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her naked, bleeding, twitching, dead body. I put the safety on the revolver, placed it back in my jeans, turned around and walked out, a silent tear running down my bloodied face.
She stood naked in the doorway, beautiful as polished glass. Her hair still shimmering from the wetness of the shower she had just taken, I kissed her passionately on the lips. I hadn’t kissed this girl for over two years, and now I was back in her arms again. As we parted, I noticed something.
She kissed in a different style than she did two years ago.
I felt a nudge in the small of my back, a gentle reminder of what I was here to do. For a few seconds, I didn’t have it. It only took me a split second to come to my senses. I stared longing into her eyes; love had infatuated both of us.
“I’m sorry”.
I pulled the Smith and Wesson revolver out from my jeans, stepped back a few paces, and bought the weapon up to aim. I flicked the safety off, pulled the hammer back and rested my finger on the trigger. Gently does it, I don’t want to rush things now. A few more seconds passed, her standing there with a look of horror on her face, me looking down the sights of the revolver. She started to open her mouth. What would come out, I would never know.
A single shot rang out in her house. The smoke cleared, and she had gone. I felt a smatter of blood hit my face. Warm, almost cosy. I wanted to look down; I always looked at the body before leaving. It was a thing I did. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her naked, bleeding, twitching, dead body. I put the safety on the revolver, placed it back in my jeans, turned around and walked out, a silent tear running down my bloodied face.