The inside of the house was left abandoned to be consumed by darkness. There was only one surviving room that laid faint inside its open mouth, the darkness patiently waiting for its chance to bite down on it.
The husband and woman took shelter in that room. They sat at the dining table across from each other as always, the bulb above them moderately casting its light with a flicker, teasing the salivating darkness.
Flicker flicker... Flicker flicker... Flicker...
Gazing at the couple from outside the dinning room windows--eager to witness the moment the darkness would eat them alive once again--were the restless peepers hiding behind the eternal abyss above. They watched through the infinite white peep-holes that punctured the black wall they hid behind. Each twinkle a blink.
But the couples biggest and most invasive peeper rested against the skyline. It watched them intently through the waxing gibbous, unblinking.
The sounds of their utensils, the occasional passing car, and the barking dog from outside took refuge in the quiet space. Every now and then the woman idly played with the yellow rice and chicken on her plate or did nothing and just stared down at it, all while never making eye contact with the husband. As usual, the husband paid her no mind as he continued to slowly eat his food in peace.
Flicker flicker...
The woman set down her fork and knife and finally looked at the husband. She dropped her elbows on the table and her chin fell on top of her upturned palms, like a burned out businessman to the concrete five stories below. The fork and knife quivered then quickly settled. The knuckles from her folded fingers dug into the skin on her cheeks and clumped it below the bottom of her eyes.
With a soft smile, she finally spoke, "I really like the color blue. Whenever I see it... it calms me."
The husband continued to eat in peace.
"It cleans the trash that I let corrode my heart, you know?" She tilted her head. "It's like a pure, refreshing tsunami that came to wash away the filth and let me start anew. It helps give me strength. It makes me believe everything I've been through was worth it all. It gives me hope for true happiness. It gives me hope."
Her gaze grew gentle; genuine.
"I love the color blue."
Her soft smile stretched further.
"What color do you love, honey?"
The peepers outside blinked in anticipation.
Flicker... flicker...
The husband looked up.
"A color I love?" He thought to himself.
As he stared, he started to lose himself in her eyes. They were so alive with passion and love.
Everything around him froze and vanished as he was forcibly sucked into a lush forest where all it harbored was blanketed in emerald, where nature bloomed and a myriad of leaves glided through the cool breeze. The land overflowed with imposing trees and beams of sunlight cut through all the gaps left open. Vines magnificently wrapped and hung all around the trees and its branches; snakes, the top of their heads flat and triangular like the leaves, did the same. The grass was soft and the air was warm and comforting. The tress grew fruit, the grass became greener, and buds on the vines bloomed Mock Orange flowers wherever the husband walked. The forest thrived from him and soon he too was stained in its essence.
Was this the color that he loved?
He parted his lips to answer, but the words wouldn't leave. They couldn't leave. He wouldn't let them leave.
YOU ARE READING
His Lovely Wife
Mistero / Thriller"Who are you?" It was a question he's asked her a thousand times, that's cut her deep a thousand times, a question that never ends. All she ever wants is for him to remember her even if it only lasts a week, a day, or even just thirty minutes-it'll...
