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Literature Text
Your wife stood in her studio
a paintbrush in one hand
the pole of her IV stand in the other.
You remember how she stood that morning -
she wasnt wearing any shoes
-
She had her easel by the balcony doors
and she stared out into the woods beside your house.
not knowing you were watching she sat the brush down
and lifted a pair of scissors that she kept around
and cut off her long black
without even flinching
-
you gasped and she turned slowly to you
and as you fell to your knees
a tear slipped down her cheek
into an uneven smile on her mouth
and she laughed
that weak laugh you never wanted to hear.
-
and then she whispered
through the hospital green of her studio
"I'm taking control"
a paintbrush in one hand
the pole of her IV stand in the other.
You remember how she stood that morning -
she wasnt wearing any shoes
-
She had her easel by the balcony doors
and she stared out into the woods beside your house.
not knowing you were watching she sat the brush down
and lifted a pair of scissors that she kept around
and cut off her long black
without even flinching
-
you gasped and she turned slowly to you
and as you fell to your knees
a tear slipped down her cheek
into an uneven smile on her mouth
and she laughed
that weak laugh you never wanted to hear.
-
and then she whispered
through the hospital green of her studio
"I'm taking control"
Continuation of the She Will Sleep saga...
the wife
the man
the child
<3
the wife
the man
the child
<3
Comments2
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This is poignant, sad, but to the point. Well done, I think you captured this scene beautifully.