Sylvia Sebena

What she thought

She stood waiting for him in the darkness while the cold winter wind was playing with her long, blond hair.
- So beautiful.
Her cheeks were as red as her nose and she blew into her gloved hands in the hope that it would help to rout the cold away. Nervously she took a look at her lit watch.
I glanced at mine.
It was quarter to one. He should have been arrived five minutes before, even if I kept the ten minutes in my mind he was always late.
It was a Saturday night and there was no one except the two of us on the streets of this quarter and no one would see them meeting infront of the old church of Bloomsbury.
 
That’s what she thought.
 
She started to walk around a bit, but it didn’t help- neither in relation to her body, which surely felt like a huge block of ice- well, she was always cold- nor concerning her fear that he would never come to meet her.
It was so easy to read her mind.
I could see her thoughts running through her head: “Maybe something has happened to him! Maybe he has forgotten about me!”
Like a little child.
Suddenly she stopped and stood quietly, listening to the sound of the wind and the other noise she had become aware of. I could see her mouth opening while she thought about shouting if there was anybody out there. But she didn’t.
Of course not. I’ve never expected her to do so.
After a while she started to walk around again. Just an imagination, she told herself, nothing but an imagination.
One more time, she glanced at her watch. Ten to one.
I knew that she just realized that he would never come.
Never again.
I smiled.
That was for sure.
I watched her shadow moving nervously, her hand looking for her tears to wipe them off.
And still I smiled.
It was kind of grotesque. She had lit up my life, then had been destroying it over years-
and now it was my turn.
Finally.
The bell of the church rang.
One o’clock.
She would keep standing there for some moments, hoping that he eventually would arrive or phone her before she would return home. After that, she would play the perfect wife waiting for her husband who always stays out late on Saturdays having a drink with his mates.
 
That’s what she thought.
 
However.
I would have enough time to get rid of his body.
 
 

Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Sylvia Sebena.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 07.02.2007.

 
 

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