As she stepped over the threshold and into the merciless path of the brutal winter wind, she felt ,queerly enough, that everything was finally falling fittingly into place. The torrents of air whipped her golden-brown tresses about the sunken contours of her face, and in a fit of euphoria and realisation she carelessly decided, on impulse, to venture further on across the road that lay before her, beckoning. On she plodded through the thick snow that had hidden the usual unpleasant sight of pavement bicycle marks from view, piled up upon the cement her own husband had helped to lay and press ten years ago.Or had it been twenty? She hardly thought about steve anymore, not since he had flown off to 'that place' everyone told her was somewhere up above without a word. How dare he. She recalled now how she had returned home, just last night, to find herself a widow (the body had been recovered from the lake twenty miles from home). She suddenly wondered why she was outside at this very moment, and not in the bathroom weeping her eyes out over the loss. Then again she experienced that feeling of jigsaw pieces falling into place. A feeling of accomplishment, a feeling of pressure lifting off her shoulders at finally having solved it, a feeling of...release.
She couldnt recall the last time he had given her a gift on her birthday. Come to think of it he had forgotten every single one since the day their marriage had been legalised. He had smoked, gambled, drank, and ordered her around. Everytime he spoke to her would be to request his fourth glass of wine, or to tidy up the 'messy birdnest of a house' he claimed they lived in. As this thought grazed her mind she realised she couldnt recall what she had done after he had requested another tidying-up of the house last afternoon.
At this moment a branch was blown off a nearby tree and hit her squarely on the forehead. As she raised an arm to check for a wound, she saw that her hands were smeared with a certain red substance, flaky now that it had dried upon her skin. Flaky...
The half-crazed widow recalled, all of a sudden, the fact that she had woken up that very morning to find herself sleeping under a tree by the lake twenty miles from home, a knife in hand, and a weird,unfathomable sense of accomplishment at having gotten rid of something somehow. Slowly, she grinned.
( oookay i have no idea why i just wrote that hahahaha. I'm not sadist ah lolol cross my heart. hope you understood what i was writing about, but my thoughts are kinda messed up today. xD ) anyway back to econs. :)))))))
♥野球バカ！