MACABRE ENDINGS

possibilities 

She turned her head and looked at him. Her eyes were as dark as the ocean depths. He felt as if she could see deep into his soul. But if she could, why wasn’t she frowning at him? Why wasn’t she turning away?

short story

MACABRE ENDINGS

ready or not 

Her soaked ringlets trailed down her cheeks. She was freezing, except where her heart brushed against his. There was a part of her that was warming towards him although his angry face was just inches away. She was satisfied that he could not detect her slight tremble. Despite the sailor’s bitter temper, she was very eager to kiss him.

short story

 

MACABRE ENDINGS

regrets 

She didn’t smile. She scarcely seemed to acknowledge him. She continued to weep with bent head and slumped shoulders, downcast eyes, resembling a mournful old painting than the spirited lass who’d nearly blackened his eyes hours before. He hated to see her like this. His gaze followed the exquisite line of her cheek, the flutter of dark eyelashes against sallow skin. It was like seeing a creature of leaping flame dimmed down to embers.

short story

MACABRE ENDINGS

confrontation

It was past noon as he addressed a breakfast of hot bread and coffee in the dining room. A slender figure entered, pausing just inside the doorway. He paid it no mind as this figure strolled right up to his table and stood, silently at his elbow. He raised his eyes, a sharp setdown on his tongue, only to discover that it was her. She had returned to her male costume as he had first seen her.

short story

 

MACABRE ENDINGS

aloneness

She had looked up in time to spy a figure emerge from the thick bramble of thicket surrounding the graveyard. He had made a stealthy approach toward her. Past the curtain of foggy grey, she had noticed that he wore a tattered coat slung over a pair of trousers and a wool scarf concealing his identity. Twin glinting Ruger SR1991 handguns were grasped with each hand. They were locked and loaded aiming directly at her.

short story