As the moon melted away the remainder of the sun’s galore, I sat in my car, deviating my mind as my next victim arose from her seat on the bus. I watched as her feminine silhouette walked down the aisle to the door as if she were my bride walking towards destiny. She gave the motion of goodbye to the driver and drunkenly staggered down the steps to the luminescent street below. Her heels left delicate imprints on the slippery grass, still drenched from the torrential rainfall from that afternoon. The velvety red dress caressed her as a mother would holding her child, with hints of golden flakes etched into the fine fabric of her elegant apparel. The woman slightly shivered in the night’s cold, the consequence of wearing thin clothing in the chill of early spring. She meandered down the street with her phone haphazardly held in her left hand. I watched as a light pole’s radiance danced on her perfect fingers, and I noticed the unmistakable glint of a wedding band, encrusted with the affectations of a man I loathe the most.  In order to quell my rising anger, I desperately latched my eyes onto the beauty of her lustrous amber locks. I was about to continue my careful examination, when her phone began to irradiate the street with a faint blue light. However, before it  found its rightful place next to her ear, the caller ceased to burden us with it’s overbearing presence. Suddenly, she looked up, as if remembering an important obligation. With great alacrity she tapped the screen and dialed a number. In what appeared to be an unassuming gesture, a jarring sound sprung from the phone on the passenger seat of my car. All semblance of beauty was lost in one fell swoop.

I hurriedly pressed the decline button, and she looked at her phone in confusion. Breathing a sigh of relief, my eyes followed her as she careened up the steps to her darkened house. She took her time opening the door, fumbling with the keys and dropping them on the porch. Finally, she inserted the key into the latch and entered her place of demise. I quietly opened the door of my car and followed her up the stairs. My shadow, eager for the ensuing debacle, vaulted towards its prey, and brutally grasped her shadow’s wrist. However, her sensitive intuition forced her to turn around, as if she felt a malevolent force entering her peaceful abode. I swiftly transitioned myself back into obscurity, and silently stalked her from behind, continuing towards the location of her ghastly husband. She staggered from room to room, calling her husband’s name, but receiving no answer. At last she noticed a light streaming under the door of the den and opened it with an indignant huff. She approached him, “I’ve been calling and calling your name, the least you could do is answer.” He sat on the couch with his back facing her, watching television, even as she barked accusations. I spied on her from the entryway of the room, hidden behind the gloom of grandiose paintings and statues residing in the hall. I felt my face stretching into a gaping crevice as I smiled at her growing frustration. Soon, she would discover the secret concealed in the crepuscular room.
She slammed her hand on his shoulder to draw his attention.The woman  froze mid sentence when his cadaverous body slipped away from her trembling fingers. Her husband ungracefully slumped onto the couch.  The woman slowly backed away, her eyes fixating on the grim spectacle before her. The walls were decadently painted with his crimson blood that dried into the color of autumnal leaves. Organs were decoratively placed upon the table and fireplace while shattered glass from the window lay scattered on the floor, coruscating her eyes. Placed carefully on the table, under what was once her husband’s stomach, rested a folded note. Gulping down sobs, she inched towards it and reluctantly freed it from its morbid paperweight. Opening the note, she found words that would burn her mind for the rest of her brief life. Out loud she read, “There is nothing that can take the pain away-”  Abruptly she dropped the paper, as she heard the floorboards creak under my heavy foot. Her traumatized eyes met mine, and a shiver of anticipation raced through my body. With a pleasant tone I said, “Hello Lisa, like what I’ve done with the place?”