Finite measures

The silhouette of the stranger slowly climbed the winding steps of the tower, elegant legs wrapped in suspended stockings, firm calves tense as she put one polished red heel in front of the other, the faint -click- of wood on concrete being swept away by the chilled breeze whirling her lengthy evening dress about her knees, just a little higher, letting her thighs taste the nights bite, relishing the sudden change in temperature.

She moved the sleeve of her jacket up a fraction to glance at a thin strapped silver watch, lights from the street below illuminate the drying streaks from red rimmed eyes as she climbed the last few steps to wait for a gentleman, the only one she loved, the only one she could ever rely on to be there. Recently passed and waiting to escort her to the next life, their next great journey together.

Her scarlet hair blowing wildly amidst a frozen winter gale, sky blue eyes watering, with freckles hidden by wind battered cheeks. She pulls her woollen black scarf closer to her neck, tighter, feeling the comforting restrictions of its embrace. Snow White and delicate fingers covered by a matching set of gloves, one half of a ring set  hidden beneath their bulk. She lights a cigarette and inhales deeply, savouring the flavour of the rich tobacco while holding her breath. Another flurry whips her hair about her face as she blows a cloud into the blistering winds.

Heavy clouds are rushing overhead, breaking briefly, allowing small bursts of silver from the moon through to the dark earth. The trembling figure atop the tower takes another drag of her cigarette.

As the wind dies down, a quiet sigh escapes her lips as she clears her lungs again, phantoms of smoke lasting but moments before vanishing, swept away into the sky. Another glance at the watch and she stubs her butt out, grinds it under her heel and and steps up to the protective barrier.

Standing with her knees against the top bar, 4 feet above the towers platform, 500 feet above the pavement smothering the park like a cancerous cist she casts her thoughts towards Roman, her best friend since her first memories, her partner in everything since birth. The best friend she had ever known and her rock when she came out. To support her, he came out too. Their parents were shocked, but supportive. And Roman suffered for it.

A few days after he came out, walking home from school, he was chased down, taunted, berated, belittled and beaten. This happened every few days for a month before he killed himself. The loss struck Anne with the ferocity of a heart attack, her world lost its light, its love, and it’s joy. Her brother so savagely teased, bullied and shamed, her twin, her freckled face fart machine and her protector. She can’t do it, not like this and not without him.

Eyes closed, head back with her arms wide, she lets herself fall. Wind rushing past as she falls in what feels like a dream daze, eyes slowly opening to take one last look at the sky. The first drops of rain touching her face as gravity pulls her Into the hard surface below, her back flat and head bouncing off the pavement with a wet -thack-, legs break upon impact and her spine snaps as her arms come loose from their sockets. Her last breath knocked from her, blood sputters from her mouth as her eyes roll back, the last of the light fading as her soul leaves this world, as we are left to wonder if she made it back to Roman.

I hope you enjoyed this one 🙂

Posted from somewhere amongst the tangled interwebs….


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