Ficly

The Storm

A woman was keeping time to the thundering bass and lighting crashing through the stormy night. The rivulets of water running down her face disguised any possibility of salt mixed with the rain. But her frenzied movements as her feet turned the grassy field to mud left no doubt of her torment. Even as the hard won callous’ on her feet split and bloody tears mixed with the dirty water beneath them, she could not cease her reckless race across the field.

As she turned to leap higher than she ever had, the soaked skirt of her once beautiful wedding dress flapped with the ferocity of a bird straining for flight. In the crucial moment after she committed herself but before she followed though, the saturated fabric trapped her. The darkness she longed for finally overtook her as she body-slammed the earth with all the force in her frail body.

When two middle school boys found her corpse the next morning they said she looked like she was sleeping. It was only the awkward angle of her head that showed otherwise.

View this story's 1 comments.