The Faces of Death
Mrs. Huffilton sat comfortably in her old red armchair
As she stared off into space without any care
Her arms cradled a little doll
Her hair was undone
Her frail body, covered in something fit for a ball
Her eyes, black, as the darkness that surrounded her
The silence was loud, not empty
She waited patiently
For the ratting, tapping on her door
Lost in her thoughts she was
Waiting patiently for the scream of the kettle
Her cheeks smudged in black ink
Her lips were a shade of bloody red
Her appearance looked like someone who had just gotten out of bed
In front of her was a puddle of her tears but she just looked straight ahead
Her lips curled into smile, revealing her rotten teeth
When soft steps broke her focus.
Her eyes returned to their hungry gaze
He had come
The broken holes in the wall let the wind outside flow in
Killing the flame in her heart and the rage in her head
“Death” she whispered
As the breeze around her carried her words away.
The man outside grinned
His face may have shown centuries of dead hope
But his stance spoke otherwise
His eyes lit up like a fireplace
He gave a small grin before
Fully disguising himself as a tall bony man
With only his library of knowledge and his carefully planned speech to give him away.
The golden watch attached to the chain on his pocket ticked furiously
His long fingers curled up, as he extended his index revealing a a ring of Ruby Zoisite
Ding Dong
Mrs. Huffilton rose from her seat, screaming excitedly.
Yelling in pain
Dancing of joy
Her mournful squall, disguised behind kettle’s squeal
Her dress hung loosely from her body as she threw her front door open
shining moonlight into her rather drafty home
Clothes and undergarments were thrown everywhere
Piles of broken cups and stacks of plates and bowls were placed everywhere except the kitchen sink
A small rat climbed up her leg, as her smile stretched to its limit
“Darling you have finally come back…” she squeaked,
“Look I have even worn a dress for the occasion”
The man at the door looked her up and down before grabbing her by the waist and placing his gigantic ring on her finger.
“Look what I got you”
After a kiss on her cheek
And a lot of pleading for another one on the lips
They sat in darkness, the door shut tight, behind them
“Oh I forgot all about the tea, excuse me my dear” she ran off
Bringing back a tray filled with an array of stale cookies and baked goods, making barely any place for the two saucers and teacups filled to the brim
”Darling, it’s time” the man urged, checking his watch before taking another sip of tea.
“But you have just come, Doesn’t Mr. Huffilton want to spend more time with his waiting wife?” she asked her face sinking, as she looked down.
The man in front of her only gave silence, face hidden in the dark of the room
2 minutes went by as the couple just sat, with only the sound of the timing watch to fill the silence, slurping down tea
When Mrs. Huffilton gasped, leaving the room.
The man in the armchair just nodded, ignoring the fact, that if she was still even in the room
Then she returned wearing fabric that hugged so tight to her skin
it was as good as standing there naked
“I got it on our last anniversary, you said it made me look like a model in Fashion Magazine!” she explained before she was swept back in the memories of her past
When her body was young again, and her face not drained of its color.
Her hair is as healthy as the many thriving plants outside in the garden.
Then arrived tears, and the rage in her broken heart burned again
“Why did you leave me here, why did you leave and never come back? You were supposed to come back!”
The man gave not a reply, but his hand
“No, just 5 more minutes. I have so much to say…”
“He is waiting for you like you were for him” the man finally spoke
Hesitantly she took his hand and kissed him on his lips.
Before collapsing to the ground.
The watch finally stopped ticking, and the wind gave a long sigh, pushing the door open
Soon came the break of dawn
His hair turned to flame-red
His eyes back to an innocent look
As he shrunk down to the size of a little boy
He gave her one last look,
Before heading outside in tattered clothes and a hopeful smile.
Tomorrow he was gonna play an old man.
The Faces of Death Read More »