Of sane mind
Of sane mind.
By Doc Bob.
Her face, ghostlike from the pale white light of the full moon that hung on the stars of that clear, but all too silent night sky, lay motionless on her pillow. Her open mouth teasing for the insertion of blockage. Her breath, light and constant, reminded him of her state of living, of being alive, of existing. His giddy mind reeled in the realization that he must change that. He must do it now. With sweaty palms he clutched his pillow and lowered it gently to her face at first, then pushing it harder and harder, burying her face in the bag of down. She began to move, tussle, then thrash in hysteria. It took him all he had within his burning guts of rage to keep the tool of suffocation fixed firmly to her whining face. He had to stifle the laughs, the jeers, the degrading and humiliating comments. The defamation had to cease. The words came from her mouth, formed by the passage of air past her larynx. The air was the main offender, it had to be prevented from being able to reproduce the lies ever again. He heaved down on the deformed pillow with renewed vigour as her arms thrashed about clawing at his face. The blood dripped readily from him to the sheets below but he did not feel pain, and if he had it would have been nothing compared to the mental pain he'd suffered from her malicious mental abuse and torturous attitude toward him over the past three years. Her arms became slow and weak like branches of a tree in a mid autumn breeze. they flailed gently, then faltered and floated down to the bed either side of her now still and peaceful body. Sweating, panting and feeling a combination of intense relief and utter remorse for his actions, he began to relax but maintained his stance holding the pillow in place, almost in disbelief, trying to comprehend what he had done, attempting to make his brain accept that the crime had been committed and he was free. The realization and belief eventually washed through him, coursing through his veins like a life giving golden fluid. Euphoria seeped into his dizzied mind. He closed his eyes which trickled burning tears of relief down his tortured face and, as if with immense relief, breathed a deep and heavy sigh as the carving knife severed his windpipe!
By Doc Bob.
Her face, ghostlike from the pale white light of the full moon that hung on the stars of that clear, but all too silent night sky, lay motionless on her pillow. Her open mouth teasing for the insertion of blockage. Her breath, light and constant, reminded him of her state of living, of being alive, of existing. His giddy mind reeled in the realization that he must change that. He must do it now. With sweaty palms he clutched his pillow and lowered it gently to her face at first, then pushing it harder and harder, burying her face in the bag of down. She began to move, tussle, then thrash in hysteria. It took him all he had within his burning guts of rage to keep the tool of suffocation fixed firmly to her whining face. He had to stifle the laughs, the jeers, the degrading and humiliating comments. The defamation had to cease. The words came from her mouth, formed by the passage of air past her larynx. The air was the main offender, it had to be prevented from being able to reproduce the lies ever again. He heaved down on the deformed pillow with renewed vigour as her arms thrashed about clawing at his face. The blood dripped readily from him to the sheets below but he did not feel pain, and if he had it would have been nothing compared to the mental pain he'd suffered from her malicious mental abuse and torturous attitude toward him over the past three years. Her arms became slow and weak like branches of a tree in a mid autumn breeze. they flailed gently, then faltered and floated down to the bed either side of her now still and peaceful body. Sweating, panting and feeling a combination of intense relief and utter remorse for his actions, he began to relax but maintained his stance holding the pillow in place, almost in disbelief, trying to comprehend what he had done, attempting to make his brain accept that the crime had been committed and he was free. The realization and belief eventually washed through him, coursing through his veins like a life giving golden fluid. Euphoria seeped into his dizzied mind. He closed his eyes which trickled burning tears of relief down his tortured face and, as if with immense relief, breathed a deep and heavy sigh as the carving knife severed his windpipe!