A tale with a twist

He slowly prised the bracelet off  her wrist, careful not to agitate the delicate gold charms which tinkled deliciously with movement. Slowly, slowly, there-it was off. Holding it up to the silver moonlight which streamed in through a slit in the curtains, he regarded it fully. Chain linked, adorned with eighteen little solid gold elephants it glistened dangerously in the moonlight. He tried to hide his smile of satisfaction but was unable to: this, the object of his coveting was his at last and he could do nothing but revel in the delights of his sin. Softly she stirred in her sleep. He quickly stowed his stolen treasure away and stealthily crept out of the room.

Outside in the courtyard the coarse heady blackness of the night was disturbed by the figure of a man moving swiftly through it. He stepped lightly, his recent plundering having ignited in him the thrill of wrong-doing. Little did he know that he was being watched by seething eyes, silently vowing their revenge.

A man, drunk and hopelessly dead lay slumped against an alley wall. His slit throat oozed streams of crimson blood which flowed down his body, staining the beautiful gold trinket he clutched in his hand.

 

Angie Mullins

18/10/2011

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