Semper Fi by K. Leigh

Kari woke up despite herself. She looked around the room hoping it had changed, but it hadn’t, not for at least four days. Ryan’s pajamas were still thrown about the floor where he had left them on Sunday. His boxers were still on the floor of the bathroom from when he took his shower. The only thing that she had the strength to move was the note he had written her. She would not contaminate her mirror, but she wouldn’t throw it out either.

death, funeral, goodbye, guests, little black dress, lunch, marine, marriage, semper fi, strength

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“In a Moment”

I saw her from across the room. She was sitting at a table by the door, I was against the wall. We were both on our laptops and she was engrossed in whatever she was reading. I was only engrossed in her.

She was beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Her hair was as red as the sunset. Not that orange kind of red, but a proper red. Her skin was pale like porcelain and absolutely covered in freckles. They dotted across her dainty little nose and sprinkled across her bare shoulders. She was wearing a lovely teal dress spotted with flowers with tiny straps going across her shoulders. It was difficult to tell the color of her eyes from where I sat, but I imagined them to be the most beautiful green color. Not grass-green, but the sea green prominent in the waters of the Caribbean. Then, she smiled.

They say a smile could light up a room, but before now I had never thought it possible. Yes, teeth could be a bright white, but this was different. Looking at her smile made me not only smile, but I felt as if my whole body were as light as a feather. My heart felt as if it were aching, looking at that smile.

The next events happened so quickly that I couldn’t process them until later. A minivan, blue, crashed through the front windows of the café. They say it was an accident. The driver, a mother of two young children, was fine. A few bruises but she walked away. The woman I was admiring wasn’t so lucky.

I remember moving aside turned-over chairs and tables to get to where she was sitting. I found her on the floor, a massive cut in her head that bled profusely. I lifted her up, trying not to jostle her. I knew she didn’t have much longer, not with as much blood as she was losing from a wound in her stomach. In a morbid moment, I realized her hair, that I had compared to a sunset, was the same color as her blood.

“Help me…” she whispered, barely audible over the sound of the chaos.

“I’m here,” I replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. My hand came back covered in her blood. “What’s your name?”

She smiled slightly, that smile that broke my heart. “Mary,” she replied.

“Well, hello Mary. My name is Adam. You’re going to be just fine.”

The woman who was driving the minivan climbed out of her car and came around to where I was holding Mary.

“I couldn’t stop,” she said as I looked up at her. She was shaking and crying. “My brakes weren’t working.”

I nodded and looked back down at the beautiful woman in my arms. Her eyes, which were indeed a lovely sea-green, were staring up at me, unblinking. She was gone.

I was still holding her limp form as the paramedics arrived. They took her from my arms and laid her on the ground.

“What was her name?” a young, male paramedic asked me.

“Mary,” I replied, staring down at her.

I reached over and closed her eyes. I had just met the most beautiful woman I had ever known and lost her at that same moment.

“Goodbye, Mary.”

a chance encounter, description, short story, story, writing

“Little Friend” by K. Leigh

Today had not been a good day to begin with. My car wouldn’t start…again. This was the second time this week I was late to work and there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe it was the universe’s way of saying “Get out of this job that does not pay enough and go to another better job that also doesn’t pay enough.” Whatever the universe was telling me, my job was saying another.

am writing, butterfly, car, caterpillar, chrysalis, cigarette, clients, cocoon, flower, friend, job, moth, short story, thoughts, universe

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“Karina”

Her hair… It is like silk running through my fingers. Long, black silk. Her eyes look up at me with the warmth that only her chocolate-brown eyes can have. I caress her tan skin, feeling the little hairs along her arm. Her stomach is supple, moving under my fingertips. I stare at her lips, imagining what they would taste like against my own. Too tempted to resist, I lean over and gently place my lips against her own. They were soft, with the slight taste of strawberry. Must have been the lip gloss she had applied before I came over.

I studied her form as she lay on the bed. She was very slim, with the concave of her stomach and the arches of her breasts. She was wearing a lacy black bra and panties; a matching set. There were little pink bows at the base of each bra strap and on the waistband of the panties. Smiling, I looked down at her and the care that she took in her appearance.

I paused then, hearing a key turn in the lock of the front door. It must be Karina’s husband, home from work. With a look back at my love, I moved to the closet to hide inside, shutting the door behind me. I could hear him calling for her, but she would not answer him with me here. I held my breath, waiting for him to enter the bedroom. As the apartment was a small one, it did not take long before he opened the door.

“Karina!” he screamed, running to her side. He picked her limp form up in his arms, covering him in her still-warm blood. I watched as he used one hand to call 911 on his cellphone.

“Please, come help! My wife, she’s… she’s… I think she’s dead. There’s so much blood! Please hurry!”

I stared at him in his grief. He does not deserve to feel such sadness for one which is not his. I continued to watch him as he cried in the ensuing minutes before the police arrived. They pulled him off of her, the paramedics checking for her pulse. When the paramedic shook her head, I smiled. There was no way Karina could have survived the slice across her carotid artery. The amount of blood that was on the bed and splayed across the room was proof of her demise.

Then, unexpectedly, one of the police opened the closet door, revealing my grinning form. I laughed as they pulled me out of the closet, covered in my beloved’s blood. The officer immediately put my thin arms in handcuffs. I shook my long, blond, blood-coated hair as I laughed. They could take me away, but she was still mine, forever.

“How could you, Lisa?! You were her best friend!” her husband screamed, lunging for me. The police had to hold him back.

I just smiled. “She’s mine now.” And with that, they led me to the awaiting police cruiser. The whole way, I did not stop laughing.

short story, trigger warning, writing

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