"The Woman in Red"
by John Amaruso
The evening is brisk and saturated with dew. The fog outlines shapes and reshapes vision. Out of the fog, a tall, slender man boards a train. Grabbing the rail handle and lifting himself up onto the platform, he carries his briefcase under his left arm with the weight of an overworked soul.
Taking his seat in the 2nd class section, he places his briefcase on the desk in front of his chair. Sifting through files and anonymous paperwork, he looks up to see no one around. Just him, his labor and his thoughts.
With hand to chin and a pensive gaze, he slaves over monotonous details of statistics and research.
The train is headed from Oradea to Bucharest where he is set to attend a business meeting. A whistle blows and the wheels churn to move forward.
Reading over his case studies and economic forecasts for the fiscal year, the train thumps and grinds relentlessly. The machinery painstakingly chews opposing rusted nuts and bolts, unchanged since the reign of Caucescu.
His eyes wander for a moment scanning the train cart from the early 70's. Flexing his lips back and forth, he returns to his study.
A large thump shakes the entire train cart up and down, back and forth, breaking his concentration, directing his eyes upward towards the end of the cart.
There, a woman in a red dress stands quietly. Eloquently dressed, proper enough to be a princess, she stands with arms bent outwards from her hips. Her hands are parallel to the floor in a pose implying the start of a well choreographed dance.
Her blonde hair curls naturally at its ends. Her eyes full of mystique and wonder, she stares at him with the most benevolent of gazes.
He stares back with intense curiosity. He turns to look around to see if anyone else is sharing the same sight as he is. At that moment he is reminded that he is totally alone.
She slowly raises her arm towards him and curls a finger, beckoning his ascendance from the chair.
'Excuse me? May I ask what you are doing?' Says the man dressed in his shirt and tie.
She smiles passively. With that she moves for the door connecting the train carts behind her.
Opening the door, she dances with the poise of a swan. Pushing the air about her, she disappears behind the darkened passage.
Turning around again and looking for mutual witnesses to this bewildering scene, he is overwhelmed with curiosity. Putting down his pen, he pursues the mysterious woman in red.
As he walks through the corridor to the next cart over, he is shocked at what stands before him.
What should have been a train cart was an empty darkened room. A single spotlight hanging from nowhere, it illuminates the center of the room, revealing the ceiling and walls as non existent. The darkness engulfs the entirety of whatever it was he had ventured into.
He turns around to analyze his surroundings only to find that the door he used to enter has gone missing.
The woman in red appears from the darkness. Into the spotlight, her blood red dress brings life to the otherwise hollow room. Her hair curls at it's ends so naturally, so beautifully.
With poise and grace, she twirls in a circle while performing what seemed to be a ballet recital. She extends her arm again towards the confused man, beckoning his presence.
He winces and blinks with confusion and intrigue.
'What is all this?' He inquires politely.
Repeating the same passive smile that spelled only purity, she turns her hand over, palm flat, asking for his hand.
Almost instinctively he accepts her offer. Very slowly and with such grace, the two begin to twirl with one another. Hand in hand, they transfer energies through the form of physical courtship.
He feels an overwhelming sense of normality and comfort. A belonging of sorts takes him over and he feels one with the stranger in red. A reciprocity of closeness and affection fills the room with romance.
Looking into each others eyes, they smile mutual appreciation of the others company. No more than a nose lengths away, their hands are clasped as they slow dance under the mysterious spotlight in the darkened room that once was a train cart.
He brings her in closer to his chest. The two are now resting their heads on the others shoulder. Their dance could slight the least of romantics into a poetic flurry of emotion.
With eyes closed and a smile, he is one with her.
'I love you' he quietly whispers over her shoulder, looking into the darkness of the room.
He slowly pulls away to look into the face of his new found love.
Replacing the wonder and mystique in her eyes was a set of white, bloodshot eyes which twitched in their sockets. Blood slowly drips from the corner of her mouth. Her head tilts towards the ceiling. Her body goes completely limp.
Reacting with instant reflex, he saves her from hitting the floor. Holding her in his arms, her head tilted backwards, he is in utter shock. Convulsing in his arms, she slowly lifts her head up.
Her eyes roll back and the horror of death has disappeared and is replaced with burning embers of red and fury.
In a dark and bone chilling tone, she grumbles
'Are you happy now?'
He suddenly awakens in a cold sweat. Breathing heavily and terrified, his conscious cant tell the difference between what was reality only moments ago and what is the current reality.
A light from the bathroom creeps out from under the door. He quickly departs from the bed to seek answers.
Opening the door, he finds his girlfriend, sprawled out on the tiled floor. Pale and cold, dried blood leads a trail from the corner of her lip to her chin. Her eyes white and bloodshot, her arms are flail behind her head, her legs crumpled in disarray.
Her palm facing the ceiling, an empty prescription bottle lays label down, a few inches away.
A message is written in lipstick on the mirror.
'Are you happy now?'.
by John Amaruso
The evening is brisk and saturated with dew. The fog outlines shapes and reshapes vision. Out of the fog, a tall, slender man boards a train. Grabbing the rail handle and lifting himself up onto the platform, he carries his briefcase under his left arm with the weight of an overworked soul.
Taking his seat in the 2nd class section, he places his briefcase on the desk in front of his chair. Sifting through files and anonymous paperwork, he looks up to see no one around. Just him, his labor and his thoughts.
With hand to chin and a pensive gaze, he slaves over monotonous details of statistics and research.
The train is headed from Oradea to Bucharest where he is set to attend a business meeting. A whistle blows and the wheels churn to move forward.
Reading over his case studies and economic forecasts for the fiscal year, the train thumps and grinds relentlessly. The machinery painstakingly chews opposing rusted nuts and bolts, unchanged since the reign of Caucescu.
His eyes wander for a moment scanning the train cart from the early 70's. Flexing his lips back and forth, he returns to his study.
A large thump shakes the entire train cart up and down, back and forth, breaking his concentration, directing his eyes upward towards the end of the cart.
There, a woman in a red dress stands quietly. Eloquently dressed, proper enough to be a princess, she stands with arms bent outwards from her hips. Her hands are parallel to the floor in a pose implying the start of a well choreographed dance.
Her blonde hair curls naturally at its ends. Her eyes full of mystique and wonder, she stares at him with the most benevolent of gazes.
He stares back with intense curiosity. He turns to look around to see if anyone else is sharing the same sight as he is. At that moment he is reminded that he is totally alone.
She slowly raises her arm towards him and curls a finger, beckoning his ascendance from the chair.
'Excuse me? May I ask what you are doing?' Says the man dressed in his shirt and tie.
She smiles passively. With that she moves for the door connecting the train carts behind her.
Opening the door, she dances with the poise of a swan. Pushing the air about her, she disappears behind the darkened passage.
Turning around again and looking for mutual witnesses to this bewildering scene, he is overwhelmed with curiosity. Putting down his pen, he pursues the mysterious woman in red.
As he walks through the corridor to the next cart over, he is shocked at what stands before him.
What should have been a train cart was an empty darkened room. A single spotlight hanging from nowhere, it illuminates the center of the room, revealing the ceiling and walls as non existent. The darkness engulfs the entirety of whatever it was he had ventured into.
He turns around to analyze his surroundings only to find that the door he used to enter has gone missing.
The woman in red appears from the darkness. Into the spotlight, her blood red dress brings life to the otherwise hollow room. Her hair curls at it's ends so naturally, so beautifully.
With poise and grace, she twirls in a circle while performing what seemed to be a ballet recital. She extends her arm again towards the confused man, beckoning his presence.
He winces and blinks with confusion and intrigue.
'What is all this?' He inquires politely.
Repeating the same passive smile that spelled only purity, she turns her hand over, palm flat, asking for his hand.
Almost instinctively he accepts her offer. Very slowly and with such grace, the two begin to twirl with one another. Hand in hand, they transfer energies through the form of physical courtship.
He feels an overwhelming sense of normality and comfort. A belonging of sorts takes him over and he feels one with the stranger in red. A reciprocity of closeness and affection fills the room with romance.
Looking into each others eyes, they smile mutual appreciation of the others company. No more than a nose lengths away, their hands are clasped as they slow dance under the mysterious spotlight in the darkened room that once was a train cart.
He brings her in closer to his chest. The two are now resting their heads on the others shoulder. Their dance could slight the least of romantics into a poetic flurry of emotion.
With eyes closed and a smile, he is one with her.
'I love you' he quietly whispers over her shoulder, looking into the darkness of the room.
He slowly pulls away to look into the face of his new found love.
Replacing the wonder and mystique in her eyes was a set of white, bloodshot eyes which twitched in their sockets. Blood slowly drips from the corner of her mouth. Her head tilts towards the ceiling. Her body goes completely limp.
Reacting with instant reflex, he saves her from hitting the floor. Holding her in his arms, her head tilted backwards, he is in utter shock. Convulsing in his arms, she slowly lifts her head up.
Her eyes roll back and the horror of death has disappeared and is replaced with burning embers of red and fury.
In a dark and bone chilling tone, she grumbles
'Are you happy now?'
He suddenly awakens in a cold sweat. Breathing heavily and terrified, his conscious cant tell the difference between what was reality only moments ago and what is the current reality.
A light from the bathroom creeps out from under the door. He quickly departs from the bed to seek answers.
Opening the door, he finds his girlfriend, sprawled out on the tiled floor. Pale and cold, dried blood leads a trail from the corner of her lip to her chin. Her eyes white and bloodshot, her arms are flail behind her head, her legs crumpled in disarray.
Her palm facing the ceiling, an empty prescription bottle lays label down, a few inches away.
A message is written in lipstick on the mirror.
'Are you happy now?'.
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