A drooping branch before an immense house.
Dull, dreary, dragging feelings in this place,
Drawn, sketched faces on off white paper,
uneven characters, heavily costumed facades.
"That's the man who did it!"
A tense frenzy of grief,
slow mob of death,
desiccated,
throbbing aftershock.
"She had sex with 3 men the night she was killed."
A pungent, foul stench,
aromatic skunk breath,
hysterical,
horror,
feverish, selfish amusement.
The men continue their discussion. Things are not what they seem. Looking deeper into the debonair personalities present, one will find:
Protagonist;
Buttressed opinions;
Ignorant victims;
Antagonist;
so on and so forth..
"She had secrets, you know, rather unconventional ones."
Whips and chains, black leather, red satin, fire lipstick, rope..
a tall, dark, handsome stranger..
(or.. abuse, brutality or worse..)
a void hallway, motionless, boundless, filled with _____,
the type which drips down the sides of caskets and naive _____.
heinous.
Monday, May 16, 2011
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