“She walks(ed) in beauty,”

Her breathing was perfect.  It was its own melody as her chest rose and fall in sync with time itself.  I didn’t stir for fear of waking her.  Hours I could have waited.  Eventually she would wake and catch me watching her sleep, and she would smile.  In this moment, I would not be able to remove my eyes.

And she woke as I predicted, and smiled.  To say that I was anything less than the happiest version of myself right there would be a lie.

As per usual of a Saturday we lie there in bed for hours.  Catching up on the news, laughing, giggling, with a touch of intimacy thrown in here and there.  Her skin was flawless, porcelain couldn’t capture what smoothness she had.  After coffee in bed, we had a shower and then finally started our day of light housework and more shenanigans.

Even the way she moved in labor was effortless.  Scrunching her face in effort as a way to get my attention.  Gaining my attention.  Keeping it.

And then it was time to get ready for the function that evening.  Some event through the hospital where she worked, she was brilliant as well.

Dressed to the nines I waited downstairs and was surprised that she could be so beautiful.  I remember having this thought a thousand times.

And of course she was the toast of my evening, her black dress falling in perfection around her curves.  Her blonde hair in beautiful contrast.  Her laugh seemed to steal the night and I was proud to be with her as green envious eyes followed me around the room.

We were even able to dance, and she once again moved like water during the harmonies of Beethoven, Brahms and the like.

When we were leaving, we had planned a stop off for some real food.  Quite opposite the rabbit portions that were provided.  I was driving and we came to a bend in the road.  Everything slowed.  Almost to a stop.

Someone was in our lane as we curled around the corner and we in turn struck each other’s front bumpers.  Soon after I was waking up dazed and in turmoil.  Blood dripped from my face and arms, suit in tatters.  I crawled my way up the ditch and onto the road, terrorized eternally for what came next.

The car was in worse condition than my suit, twisted metal reeking of death.  The truck opposite my sedan was torn off at the front and a man stumbled out.  He was hopelessly drunk and disoriented.  At the time I wasn’t concerned with his well-being.

My own car was flipped and I could see her lying on the inside roof of the small car.  I forgot my own injuries and ran to her.  Somehow pulling her out I looked at her face.

Even in death she was a thing of beauty.  As the blood drained from her skin, my own life left mine.

She had died because of a fifth of whiskey in the bottom of that truck.

She had died because of a man intent on driving home.

She had died for nothing.

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