Sunday 18 November 2012

A Lingering Knight


Her skin came alive as the smooth flesh all across her upper body erupted in goose bumps. Even though she was only wearing a nightie, she new it wasn’t the cold that was causing it. Because it was around this time that he normally returned from work, and they had been playing this game for over a decade. 

Lying on the bed, she refused to open her eyes. She knew that pretending to be asleep teased him to try harder. And as the goose bumps rippled further across her, she felt his fingers lovingly against her skin. They were cold.

As the sensation continued along her arm and up to her neck, she was reminded of the first time he had kissed her. The snow was fresh on the ground and the air as crisp as it felt in the room tonight. Her thoughts raced along with her pulsing heartbeat. She longed for his lips to meet with hers as they did then, and had done since. Now sensing him just millimetres from her face, her eyes opened softly to meet his warming gaze. But there was nothing to see, she was alone in the darkness.

The room was deadly black and the cold feeling lingered heavier now than ever. It encapsulated her body in fear. But after a few groggy seconds, the painfully undeniable truth set in once more. As it had every night since that fateful day 3 weeks ago, fear turned to a harrowing sorrow, and that sorrow to tearful woe.

Taking pride of place on her bedside table stood his picture; the customary black ribbon of passing attached across the upper right corner. She lay facing him, eyes locked on to his. And as time slowed to a standstill she eventually passed back to her dreams. It was not the first time she had awoken like this, and she prayed it would never be the last. 


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