The Closeted Daughters Of The Kaprovski's Family
The light shone on the wall by an array of fluorescent tubes, prevailed the surface of a poor finishing by an amateur handy man. There, hanged a wooden frame just a few inches away from the exit door which an evidence of aging showed an obvious remark on the picture.
A man - a few years shy to 30 - induced an obtuse look, gazing deep into the painting, his eye balls stayed static in the sockets, with a cloud of judgmental opinion radiated by the wrinkles on his forehead. There was a certain gesture that suggested he knew the man on the wall, but with a faint memory he had kept throughout his years of breathing, he lost in a swarm of many faces.
At the end of a long stretch hallway, 30-meter apart from the wall, a woman's silhoutte in a classic 70's gown appeared gracefully from ray of the descending sun that went through the door on that very evening of Tuesday in March 1998 in a mansion of Mr. Abigail Laprovski. She stood still. With no hint of the slightest move. At times, the wind passed by made the dress looked wavy, draping the body of the woman, giving an idea how curvy she was.
The man lost in his made-up thoughts.
"Some say he had been strangled to death. Eyes almost popped out. Eerie"
The woman walked pass through a line of multicolor vases, with buds of flowers showed signs of almost bloom in nearer time. The tapping sound from her green heels reverberated through the hall, almost harmonic. She stopped just a few feet away from him. She turned around, finding for herself a chair.
"As far as I could remember, this place has never been this dusty. There will be a morning, at least once a week, Amber will come and sweep all this grime and dirt. I wonder who takes care of all these flowers"
The man no longer in his deep thought. He stood on his place like a nail hammered in the wood.
"You don't have any idea what had happened to her, do you?" the man broke his voice. Coarse and manly.
"Well, certainly I don't"
"She was looking for you", the voice still in its composure. He was nonchalantly turned his back, examining her face as if she was the one who murdered Fred. And then he continued
"Fred was a good man too"
To be continued
A man - a few years shy to 30 - induced an obtuse look, gazing deep into the painting, his eye balls stayed static in the sockets, with a cloud of judgmental opinion radiated by the wrinkles on his forehead. There was a certain gesture that suggested he knew the man on the wall, but with a faint memory he had kept throughout his years of breathing, he lost in a swarm of many faces.
At the end of a long stretch hallway, 30-meter apart from the wall, a woman's silhoutte in a classic 70's gown appeared gracefully from ray of the descending sun that went through the door on that very evening of Tuesday in March 1998 in a mansion of Mr. Abigail Laprovski. She stood still. With no hint of the slightest move. At times, the wind passed by made the dress looked wavy, draping the body of the woman, giving an idea how curvy she was.
The man lost in his made-up thoughts.
"Some say he had been strangled to death. Eyes almost popped out. Eerie"
The woman walked pass through a line of multicolor vases, with buds of flowers showed signs of almost bloom in nearer time. The tapping sound from her green heels reverberated through the hall, almost harmonic. She stopped just a few feet away from him. She turned around, finding for herself a chair.
"As far as I could remember, this place has never been this dusty. There will be a morning, at least once a week, Amber will come and sweep all this grime and dirt. I wonder who takes care of all these flowers"
The man no longer in his deep thought. He stood on his place like a nail hammered in the wood.
"You don't have any idea what had happened to her, do you?" the man broke his voice. Coarse and manly.
"Well, certainly I don't"
"She was looking for you", the voice still in its composure. He was nonchalantly turned his back, examining her face as if she was the one who murdered Fred. And then he continued
"Fred was a good man too"
To be continued
Comments