the sunset paints the sky crimson across the dusty plain. It bends the shadows of the trees and the lamp-posts, extending and warping them like Pinochio’s nose. night is coming.
the wine by her side is cheap, unlike the fine necklace she has around her neck. oh he loved her so much, and she loved him too. but that was then. she takes a sip. it burns like vinegar, but she forces it down. the chair rocks back and forth again. the wind picks up, catching the iron gate and forcing it to creak. they need to buy some oil, but never do. more pressing things to buy.
inside he screams and moans. he’s been like this for days. she went through it all weeks ago, her body a dictionary of scars. they are scattered across her body like fairy dust, settling at random points and glistening, deadly and telling.
she went through it all. he watched and through her pain she could see his terror; he would have to go through this soon. he held her hand as she threw up and spasmed, doubled up in pain. no, not pain. her body was just learning to feel again. nerves long dead in the tips of her body came back to life. she curled her toes in agony.
she remembered the first time they made love. her hands pressing against his back as he moved in her. the gasps. him on her lips. his lips all over her naked curves. her toes curled up as she saw the beautiful colours every woman deserves to see, but many do not. that amazing rush. she bit her lip as the wave hit her
now she could not bear to see him in this state. they had been through to much. she looked onto the table beside her. so many letters. so many how-are-yous, where-are-yous, what-are-you-doings. sometimes she thought about running again. this time alone.
she takes another sip of wine, and stares into the sunset. she smiles, and looks back on a past of love, and a future of chaos and uncertainty. when the world is falling apart, sometime’s it’s nice to take a break from all your worries.