~ A little story about a woman ~

The wind whispered lightly around the two figures in the garden. This was a pure splendor of roses. You could smell the scent of these beautiful flowers in the building, it was so strong. She smiled and took a deep breath. The sun laughed in her face. Oh, how she loved these flowers! There were roses of all kinds. She glanced over at him and saw that he was smiling too. The whole time he had been staring into his surroundings. Always to a certain point.

"Ah, Richard! Isn't this wonderful again?"

He didn't answer. He was still staring at the black cat. Her yellow eyes seemed white in the sunlight.

"I knew you liked it!"

She sipped the noble cup again. A greenish-red liquid was floating in it. A girlish giggle came from her.

"You're so talkative again!"

Then she followed his gaze. She giggled again.

"That's just Stepard!"

She got up and toddled towards the black creature.When it was in her arms, it became restless. Back at the garden table, she set it down on his lap. He still didn't respond. He stared into the distance again, still at the same point. There were old, filthy vases. They had many jumps and were used as homes by all sorts of animals.

He smiled. The black animal tore open his pants. There was music in the house. Annie Lennox. A light breeze blew across her face. Her brunette locks rustled with her. Again she smiled contentedly and closed her eyes. The cracking of clothes could be heard. After a while she opened her eyes again and dreamily watched her cat at work. Red welts were visible on the man's leg.

"Oh, isn't he so cute, Richard?"

She giggled.

"How lovely he is!"

Another sip flowed down her throat. The animal jumped on her lap and purred. There was blood on his paws. The dress was white and printed with flowers in reddish tones.She shooed the cat away. A freshly printed new flower appeared. She smiled again.

She wanted to take a sip. There was nothing left. Horror replaced her previously peaceful, contented face. Her hand began to shake slightly. The cup clattered on the plate. In a panic, she dived into the house. Music could now be heard more clearly and it reeked of decay. Her body was shaking meanwhile. Drops of sweat could be seen on her forehead and her eyes were wide open and threatened to fall out. Gasps and whimpers accompanied the trampling. She glanced out of the window in the hallway. The sun was shining outside. She just couldn't be seen anymore. Crippled plants adorned the garden. A man sat motionless on a garden chair at the table. He was still staring at the vases, smiling. His skin was gray and rotten. There was bare flesh. Fresh and old, dried up blood stuck to his rags, which he used as clothes.Gray, thin threads covered his head. The lower jaw had long been food for the cat.

Gasping, she sped on. Her shaking hands scraped the key over the keyhole. The door was thrown open. She trampled over to the dresser. A drawer was ripped out and hit the floor. She padded desperately for the black rifle. She was now like an epileptic. She hastily opened the can. Greenish-white powder was stowed in it. She quickly took a handful and stuffed the load down her throat. Saliva ran down her throat, accompanied by droplets of sweat. Gradually it calmed down. The shaking subsided and she was breathing steadily.

She smiled.

Quietly she went down with the black rifle. She made tea in the kitchen. Its scent combined with that of the roses from outside. She breathed it in with relish. She poured the tea into a huge pot and half the contents of the can with it.She went outside, sat down again and poured himself and him tea. Both smiled. Satisfied, she sipped her cup and took a sip. A girlish giggle. Her gaze stayed on him.

"So beautiful, don't you think?"

Then she turned to the roses. The flowers looked lovely! These colors, this scent! Another sip landed in her throat.

... and she smiled.

~ THE END ~