We professed our love. Bathed in the golden light of promises and hope. We’d battered shadows of doubt and fought darkness together. It’s right that he cups my heart in his hands.
He holds it so gently. The beat was steady and strong. The aorta neatly severed drips the last of my life from his fingertips.
He smiled, lovingly. Yes, he was right for me. Gently, he flexed those fingers which had once caressed me.
Flesh tore and split.The last of my life pooled from his soft hands. Blood overflowed. Scarlet rivulets splashing onto the sandstone cobbles.
Yes. He was the right one to end me.
About the author
Leanbh Pearson lives on Ngunnawal Country in Canberra, Australia. An LGBTQIA and disability author of horror and dark fantasy, her writing is inspired by folklore, fairy tales, archaeology and the environment. Follow her at www.leanbhpearson.com | Twitter, Facebook & Instagram @leanbhpearson