Friday, April 24, 2009

Stinky Is Good In A Garden Of Lies

The lights were out, the house was quiet. All that remained were haunting memories that had been suppressed until Karen made her archaeological discovery. How could one piece of rusted metal ruin everything? Something had to be done; quickly. No one could ever find out what happened. No one would believe it was an accident, because it wasn’t. A cool breeze blew the sheer panels into the room. The faint smell of jasmine was reminiscent of the night Greenstone became a much safer place.
No one else would be subjected to her snide remarks or her knack for receiving forgiveness over and over again for the same heinous offenses. Her laugh still rang loudly in the silence, comparable only to fingernails on a chalkboard. It felt good when the laughter stopped, when the last bit of life had drained from her body.
There’s always the debate on what happens to the soul when death occurs. Does it go up to heaven or shoot straight to hell? Or maybe it floats around in purgatory waiting to learn its fate. With Patience Landau, there was no need for discussion.

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