Don’t Speak

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Tears streamed down her face and burned the soft, crimson flesh of her cheeks as she pressed the cool bottle of Absolut to her forehead and studied the cotton-candy clouds that floated across the blue sky outside of her windows. She bathed her listless limbs in the warmth of the morning sun as she lay on a shaggy rug, amidst the broken glass that was scattered across the living room, and rested her feet on the velvet cushions of the tufted, turquoise sofa.

A faint, crackling sound pierced the silence as the needle of her antique phonograph scratched the surface of a spinning vinyl record and breathed life to the legendary voice of Nina Simone. The deep, melancholy Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair drifted over the graveyard of massacred paintings piled next to the shattered picture frames, an upturned coffee table with its tapered legs reaching out to the exposed ceiling pipes, two fractured table lamps and a sea of slashed chiffon curtains sprawled across the walnut floor.

Izabel took a swig of vodka and fought back the urge to cough as the clear liquid raped the inside of her throat.

The phone rang.

“Hey, you know what do do after the beep.” Beep!

“IZABEL, what the fuck! Answer your goddamn phone. I know you’re at home, sulking like a lazy cow over this stupid breakup. Try not to commit suicide until after our afternoon meeting with the client -” an angry honk in the background drowned out her sister’s angry voice, “-green means go, you stupid fuck!”

Click.

Izabel closed her eyes and imagined floating atop of a lake. Its placid surface mirrored the steel-grey sky above and matched the rhythm of her deliberate backstrokes to the chirping of the birds that sang among the tall, conifers.

A familiar voice echoed throughout the surrounding boreal forest, spearing the dense fog, and called out her name. It spawned a lonely tear. The crystal drop snaked down her pallid cheeks and melted into her frozen, blue lips. She continued to swim through the cold water. Her lifeless body sailed out of everyone’s reach and drifted towards a place where she could spend the rest of her life in solitude.

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Don’t Speak

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