The Web: Pain

by Mitchell Harding

written on 3/29/00

The final piece of the puzzle falls quietly into place. I stand in the shadows outside her window, rain assailing me mercilessly. My fists clench and unclench with mechanical regularity.

The room beyond the window is dimly lit, but not so dark that the actions within are obscured. She is sitting at the kitchen table. Before her on the table are two items: a sheet of paper, covered with hastily written script, and a blade.

Her face is rent with agony. Slowly her gaze moves back and forth between the two objects. At last she settles upon the letter. As her eyes follow the familiar text, her hands move for the blade.

Only when the blade has fallen from her limp fingers does her face assume a strangely peaceful expression. I collapse to the ground, her agony becoming my own.

Art Gallery
Main Page