Date

How one tiny mistake can kill the mood completely.

Dates are nice, those at amusement parks among the best, and my date? She's as beautiful as the stars seen from the top of the ferris wheel.

She seems to be levitating, gracefully floating through the masses in her pastel cyan dress, her grip around my hand as gentle as a lovers sweet caress and her smile as warming as the sun on a late August day.

We share cotton candy, we laugh and we dance.

Next to her I am ever so clumsy, ever walking in the shadow of her ever dazzling radiance.

The evening turns to night, the lights fade out and my date leads me towards her home with the alluring fragrance from her perfume.

She opens the door, lets go of my hand, giggles and disappears into her pitch black apartment, leaving me to search for her only by sound.

Clumsily I stumble, blindly I search with my hands before me, lead only by her sweet giggle.

Around a corner, in the light of the moon from a tall window she stands.

Her pastel cyan dress on the floor, her nude skin pale white, her open wound spilling blood and guts over the floor.

I shouldn't have used a chainsaw.

Author's Note

Do excuse mistakes in my writing, seeing as I write most of my stuff at 5 AM and only to clear my head from weird dreams.
Otherwise, all feedback is much appreciated, I'm a beginner and I wish to learn.
Thank you.