prabalgurung*

He woke slowly and his eyes adjusted to the dark. She perched above him like a gargoyle or some midnight vision, unmoving and silent only her eyes looking him over. She leaned in to him and placed her cheek against his and as she spoke her lips brushed against his ear. “Tomorrow they will have already forgotten you.” Pressure against his gut, and then pain. The knife slid slowly into his liver and bile mixed with blood, stained his shirt, her blouse, the sheets, and the floorboards.