Writing Prompt (Week 1) | Red Sunglasses | by @rideradio

in #writingprompt6 years ago



This image belongs to Hogarmanía.



Red Sunglasses


The sun was burning her eyelashes, she rearranged her black hair over her shoulder, took off her red sunglasses, stretched her legs and looked around. The beach was a few miles away, rumor of the waves was vaguely heard, taking advantage of the uncommon silence that adorned the place. She directed her slanted black eyes at the houses that adjoined hers, she did not know any of her neighbors, it was not customary to do so. She closed her eyes again, dozing thinking of her unknown neighbors, and let herself go.

Suddenly she heard a scream, slowly standing on the chair, gently rubbing her eyes. Through her balcony she could see the house opposite, through the window she saw two people, a man and a woman, arguing heatedly, moving their hands in the air and gazing at each other with red faces. The girl with the red glasses tilted her head curiously.

The woman began to throw things all over the property while the man kept screaming, although the sound of the whole fight could be heard, it could not be understood why. She burst into tears, rushing over a small white sofa, you could tell by the way she moved her shoulders. The man walked away, leaving the room.

The girl lit a cigarette and leaned forward on the chair so that she could observe better.

The woman rose from the sofa and walked to a small shelf in a corner of the room. When she turned slowly, in her hands she carried a weapon with an elongated metal tube, wiped her tears with the back of her hand and advanced to the balcony where the man was. She probably said something to him because he turned around, petrified over her steps when he saw what she was carrying in her hands. They watched each other for a long time, the woman was crying, he was not. They just looked at each other.

"Pull the trigger" she could read on the man's lips. "C'mon.

The woman shook her head. The man pursed his lips with his eyes fixed.

I'm sorry" said his lips before sweeping himself across the floor and knocking down the woman who shot out the windows in front of her. She fell to the ground and they began to struggle. She was hitting him and he was screaming trying to put the gun away. Two more shots resounded and the screaming stopped. No one got up for an hour.

The woman gave one last soft puff to her second cigarette, threw it into the ashtray. When she looked back at the house noticed that the man had risen and walked out of the room.

When he returned, he had a long rope in his hands, which he tied carefully. As he passed the balcony, he bent over the woman for a few seconds. When he got up, his face was soaked with blood, especially his mouth.

He tied the rope to one of the stone columns on the balcony.He looked up at the sky as he put the rope around his neck and jumped. The only thing that twisted afterwards were his feet

For fifteen minutes the body was suspended in front of the house until the rope gave way and the man fell to the ground full of beach sand, with the rope broken as his neck.

The girl got up from her chair, approached her own railing, looked at the man's body full of blood for a while. She put on her red glasses, moved her black hair back as she turned and sat down again. She reached out and lit her third cigarette of the day.


This short story is participating in the Writing Prompt Contest (Week 1) by @themarkymark feature here!



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