Not a member?     Existing members login below:
Holidays Offer
 

Deceptive Bliss


She placed herself in front of him. “Frank, it’s me.”
He welcomed her showing a slight grin.
“What did you leave the feast?”
He didn’t answer. He just gazed at her for some seconds. Then, he looked away.
“Frank, is there something wrong?”
He ignored her.
“Come on. Look at me!”
He raised his eyes. They were brown like sheets in autumn.
“Days are vain.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You already know.” His voice sounded firmly.
“I don’t know.”
He frowned, “Yes, you do.”
She baffled.
“The problem is that you deny it.” He said.
“I don’t recognize you. I don’t know uh…” she sighed. “Tell me what’s got into
you?”
“Don’t patronize yourself.”
“What are you really talking about?” At this moment her angst was notorious.
“We are far from all familiar voices. Those ones we took in so proudly without
thinking how meaningless they were.” He surveyed his surrounding. “You know, this
place, even as dark and murky as it appears, is much more pure that the rotten spot
we’ve been dwelling in. So, please do me a favor, Melanie. Don’t hide your feelings.”
She stood still. His words seemed to get to her. No moves accentuated in her facial
skin, not even impetus reflexes slipped off, not until he uncovered a small gun hidden
behind his hands.
“What are you gonna do with that?” She went pale.
He glared at her. “You’re afraid I’m using this on you, uh?”
She tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat.
“Or… on me?”
She pulled a face like child before a bad treatment.
“No need.” He said before letting off a chuckle. He got his eyes on her again. “We’ve
been dead for so long. It’s just you don’t realize it.”
Remove