....snip...and another memory of his smile caresses my mind. All hazel eyed and tanned, he looked like an advertisement for sunshine
and wind.
....snip....we met in the produce section on a hot summer day, such a cliché, such an innocent start to Us.
He was funny, charming and had an open smiling face that no one seems to be able to resist.
....snip....I remember the cloud that passed over his face three months in to our relationship, when I came home with a new hair style.
He never said a word, just caressed an amber curl and sighed. That was all it took, I didn't cut more than an inch off of it
for the next five years. Until today.
...snip...a gleaming white claw foot tub, him sitting at the end with my soapy hair in his hands. His large hands caressing my scalp
and working up a lather in my hair and my body. He rinsed the white soap, revealing the red gleam of my hair, before gently combing and braiding
the waves into two plaits. The schoolgirl game became a favorite in our ever changing sexual adventures.
....snip....a breeze rustles the leaves, and the sunflowers dance in the field, waves of bright yellow happiness cheering as he slid
the ring on my finger. A sea of flowers watching as we made slow love on a sun warmed patchwork quilt. The scent of sunshine
and wildflowers mingling with the scent of sex as the air skimmed our bodies.
...snip..."You look so beautiful in blue." He said as he handed me a beautiful sapphire blue kimono, wrapped in black velvet ribbons.
Our first anniversary. Our last.
...snip....a shadow, so brief I could have convinced myself I was wrong, did convince myself I was wrong, when I told him I was pregnant.
The tender smile and embrace erasing the moment's unease.
...snip...a new pink or frilly outfit almost every day since we found out we were expecting a girl. More dresses and frills than anyone
could imagine. All purchased by him. I giggled at his excitement, teasing that I was going to have two kids if he kept acting so silly,
quietly thrilled that he wanted to be a good Daddy.
....snip...I found the loose floorboards in the closet while cleaning. Nesting. Obsessing. The box inside, worn and old.
The Polaroids inside varying in age. Some yellowed, some worn, all with little girls. Little red-headed girls with two braids.
All wearing blue silk. Each posed on a stool looking scared, miserable, alone.
The buzz of the hairdryer matches the buzzing that was in my head as one of the newer looking pictures fluttered from my fingers to the floor.
Allison Shay, a girl from the next town who went missing last year, sitting on the edge of our claw foot tub with bright red braids and
a blue silk kimono. The buzzing in my head as I waited in our bed with a kitchen knife. The buzzing in my head as I sat on our
white sheets, in our white room, covered in his red blood.
Looking into the mirror, I see a different woman. A woman with spiky short red hair.
"Not bad for a haircut in jail." I think, as I place my hands over my swollen belly. "Not bad at all."
...and with a serene smile on my face, I am escorted back to my cell to await trial or labor. I am ready for both.
rating: 8
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