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A Night In The Cold

They were like pins plunging her ears. With her little fingers, she tried to cork her ears, but it proved to be in vain. It still didn’t work when she tried again. She turned and turned but the peace she sort was far from the bedside. Beads of sweat grew on her forehead. Facing the bedside, she stooped her pillow over her right trying to redeem herself from what she heard.

Cold travelled down her body as more beads of sweat rejoined. She was now between tears and disgust. Her heart begun to race, and she felt as if it wanted its freedom. Her breast felt hard – from the force of the freedom seeking heart. She felt another thing. It was clear as the moonlight. It was something that wanted justice – instant justice. It was this anger that woke her from her sleep.

The idea, it struck her and force her pale lips to extend with a faint smile. As if in a trance, she followed what led. It took her out of the bedroom and strangely into the kitchen. She kicked a low stool on her way, staggered, stood still and thrusted forward. She took what she needed. Rather strangely, she did not realise how she got back to the bedside, this time to the opposite side.

For a moment, she stood still, then she felt it again. Her heart, she wouldn’t let it rest quiet in her breast

The stillness of the dark was broken by a whisper from the blue. “Do this and rest your heart,” the voice echoed in her brain. Holding the tool she acquired from the kitchen with both fist and with the swiftness and quietness of which only a nomad is capable, she drove it through the noisy fellow. It was his heart that felt the worst of the pain. He shivered and quivered, but his gentle struggle did only little help. The noise stopped. She felt her peace again. Then, there was the blood, flowing like milk and honey. The peace and soundness was her daring desire. And lo, she won it.

It was only the first night of their wedding when Ann discovered her new groom was one of those noisy fellows. Yes, that’s what she called them. Something she so dreaded. Ann had hated snorers from childhood. And now here was she, until this moment, going to live with one all her life’s breath. Exterminate him? That, she conceded with ghastly voice. And now, unknown to her, he’s gone. Gone for good. Until daylight unveils her face, the night holds the story. The walls have ears. The walls are witnesses. But that doesn’t seem to matter now. Till morning she sleeps soundly.

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