Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Extract of Butterflies: A Short Story

She lay on her bed, sucking a cigarette. It was past midnight but sleep wouldn’t come. The lamp was on, throwing shadows onto her wall. She wasn’t scared though. She welcomed them.
 With a sigh, she got off the bed; the springs groaned as the weight suddenly disappeared. She held the smouldering cigarette between her index and middle finger of her right hand, and walked out of her room into the hallway.
 She walked towards her bathroom, already confident in what she would see. A pale and haggard face would stare back at her from the mirror. Her eyes would look bruised from lack of sleep, and her lips would be dry.
 Ignoring the face reflecting back at her, she mashed her cigarette into the ashtray that was on the windowsill. Stooping down to the sink, she turned the tap on. She splashed her face with ice-cold water, drawing a slight gasp. Droplets ran down her cheeks and under her chin, slowly travelling down her slim neck.

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