The evening hours were elapsing lento as if centuries were elapsing until the imminent sunrise dawned as the moonset looms in the grayish azure sky.
Even a quarter an hour after the mysterious woman as the hallway's darkness shadowed her figure as it abided an unsolved mystery for Timothy, himself, he thought it might be one of the patients' visitors, due to her casual or rather unholy outfit for his hallowed pools as the holy water might be the sole armor against anything unhallowed for his sight.
His bottom berry-coloured curled indisposedly after his recited in murmur evening prayer in his dim lit office as his tall, masculine silhouette perfectly reflected on the pale gilt wall as if a shadow of beast resided the austere, old-fashioned office. His chocolate brown orbs blankly, colder, howsoever, drab pigments tinged the ignited flames in them as they were keep dancing its fire dance were fixed on the wooden framed photo of his favorite nun, posing next to him as he kept storing this prominent paraphernalia of his in one of his bureau's drawers since in the nuthouse was a policy the personal or memorable paraphernalia shouldn't be in anybody's bare hands. He has contemplated the old vintage photo of him, posing next to Jude just after their successful mission in Boston's outskirts, in order to save hive of wretched, lost souls.
The vintage photo spoke volumes as they were worth thousand of words to be described instead just in a sentence. Their radiant, shining smiles flashed upon their porcelain, pale as ghosts complexions and their dark, hazel irises darted directly to the camera with its vibrant nuances illuminated their pair of irises, affecting their general mood.
Furthermore, they resembled a married couple for a long time as their postures were readily apparent, sketched upon their figures. Nevertheless, the church was as restricting as the jail. They were sacred, devotional servants of God and the ecclesiastical duties, in order to conceal each fragment of their dark pasts including heartbreaks, marriage, dating, sex, romance and so forth. On the contrary, if they posed for the same photo without being disguised as a priest and a nun, otherwise it would be much different.
As he judged the photograph, it wasn't older than a half a decade ago, just months after their first encounter and choosing her as his right hand, proudly calling her his own rara avis.
He gripped the wooden framed photograph, scrutinizing it as his other hand's long, adroit fingers tipped lightly her gloriously rejoicing face as he somewhat commenced blaming himself for being as impulsively coarse as he eventually behaved hours ago especially during their heated argument about Arden. What the holy man yearned was Jude's security as he plotted her convey to another institution as she doesn't lose her clerical possessions and title, besides opening a new chapter of her life especially in Pittsburgh.
"I'm so sorry for my anger, rare bird! I just wanted you to be safe as I don't want you to be the next craved victim of Dr.Arden!" Mellowed in firm British accent mumble zinged his berry-coloured lips as if he could picture the apology he owed Judy as she solely believed the version of her removal from the mental hospital is her love interest was ultimately manipulated and bamboozled under the bewitching spell of Arthur's cunning words. "I'm just sorry! I want your safety as I don't want you to be as mutilated as Shelley. You don't deserve her fate!" His mumble bear a semblance of a sermonized prayer, lingering on his tongue. He closed his eyes for awhile, allowing to snuggle the framed photograph as his heart beats' frequency diminished, subsequently, baptizing them in clamminess of its pulsation.
A handful of minutes later, he fled the office by leaving the wooden-framed photo sitting motionlessly on the hardwood desk as he determined himself to pay a visit to the older woman's office, making sure if she's feeling better.
The pitch-black darkness in her former office was overlooked by him as he rapped a few times on the mosaic glass door, emitting sounds by keeping whether her or somebody else's wits about his sudden presence in the middle of the night.
YOU ARE READING
Seperated in Pittsburgh
Romance"No, no! We just had a few, uh, difficult days, but the order has been restored," As the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer was in her mid-sentence by bumbling as her lip curled, he cut her off curtly, coarsely. The heartbeats accelerated heav...
