Evidence of a short goodbye

The apartment, esthetically cold, calibrated for sparse, was assembled with stainless silver appliances and Pier One bar stools. There was a single Zulily mug on the industrial bronze cocktail table, lipstick smudged, overturned. A red silk sheet, torn and tangled with stockings and garters, lay between the kitchen and foyer, and a trail of blood smeared the linoleum.

Her alibi was solid.

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16 thoughts on “Evidence of a short goodbye

  1. So many questions captured in this. Love the sterility and rawness.

    Your comments are closed on “Listen,” Steven, but I wanted to let you know how beautiful it is – reminds me of the intensity of youth begging us to remember to live.

    Liked by 1 person

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