watch out

Watch Out

She glanced over her shoulder, shivering as she felt the past night's

events freeze into place. She wouldn't be able to look backwards

anymore because her gaze, piercing as it had become, would shatter

that delicate icy reflection of the present moment. She cradled the

gun, unsure of the object in a way she had not been before she had

fired it: then it had had a function; now, what was it for? It's

usefulness, like the bullet buried in Connor's chest, had been

discharged. Could she pass it off as a crime of passion? unlikely, for

most people who knew her would never use that word to describe her.

The car would take her away from here and she wished some of its hue

would flow into the sky and dispel the accusing red that gathered like

blood in the clouds. The world knew what she had done and was turning

away from her. She knew what her story would be -- a femme fatale who

had engineered the whole sordid mess when she got greedy for the money

her man was keeping from her. Yes, she had thought he was stiffing her