Prologue

 

Prologue:

 

 

My name is Pain. I live in a house much like your own, I’m sure.  There are a few walls, some windows, and a door to complete a cookie cutter dwelling in suburbia.  It’s a simple house on an inconspicuous lane, in a small town where everyone is the same, or so it seems.

                There is a woman two streets over known for her sexual prowess. Little do her neighbors know, she also killed her husband back in ’83. The man next door writes poetry, yet never has he let anyone read it. He just sits and writes all day long. I often wonder if anything he writes makes sense. Or maybe he is writing great secrets that we are never meant to know. Whatever the case may be, one day the man next door, we will call him Mr. Osborne, met the woman to streets over; she will be the Widow Carmine, at her house for tea. Mr. Osborne never spoke again. To this day a word never passes his lips, only a senseless gurgle murmured in moments of distress.

                I’ll never know what the Window Carmine did to Mr. Osborne, but I’m sure it was wonderfully fierce. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing I had a talent close to that of someone so unique that a single afternoon of tea can turn a man into a wordless fool.

Reviews

[purplepenguin9]

Intense, very thought provoking. I would change up a couple sentences to give it more impact. For example: "and a door to complete a cookie cutter dwelling in suburbia" to "... and a door. A complete cookie cutter dwelling in suburbia". Otherwise, I really liked it. Very creative, to say the least. Good work!