Quiet falls hard to the floor landing next to the scene of the crime. A knife is the perfect tool to conceal all the noise associated with death. The perfect tool for exorcising the demonic feelings that suffocated her life. His blood will be the water from which she has baptised the new life.
Her naked body hovers over the still figure. The table lamps paint an sepia tone to the room. The color of gentle old photos from those gentle times when death came to you. It wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t go quietly into the darkness. You were damn lucky if you did.
The lifeless body creates a black pool on the wooden floor. Slipping to the right, as if it too wants to live the room without him. Time slows. The room is not quite as dark as they are.
Her body still motionless. She is far closer in shape to the ancient fertility figures than the glamorous movie types that get to walk free. A kleenex full of tears. Friendly cops wanting a piece of the grieving woman.
The clock in her head goes off. The airport trip. Tick, tick alibis in time mean precise moves.
She walks around the bed. Turns off her phone. She lifts his up. The screen shot causes her to look at the gruesome picture of the two of them in fake happiness.
“Honey, I can’t remember if I said goodbye. I’m so tired. Have a great trip! Call me when you land. Love You Kevin.” The text goes away. She’ll get it at the airport. First the taxi downstairs waits to show she left before seeing the text. All clean now.