• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 01
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Time and his Muse Sheeba

A cool evening in November. She waited at the door, checking her watch. It was nearly eight when she saw the headlights turning into the side road. Oh, she sighed, how long it's been!
The tap was running in the kitchen. Her brow wore beads of perspiration like shining pearls, she was always nervous at times like this. By now the car had entered the driveway, she could hear him getting out, feet on the gravel outside. She was just inside, out of view, behind the gauze curtain, holding her breath.
It trickled down in a kind of downpour now, the sweat of her brow that had built up and run amok, drenching her face, her neck, her hair. He was at the door.
She closed her eyes. A green field full of yellow flowers loomed up, she was running hand in hand with her little brother. A big plane flew overhead. The man in the car had come to watch them play. He stood far away, outside the field.
Now she opened her eyes one last time to look at him. He hadn't changed. Shivers ran down her spine and she disintegrated in front of her own eyes.
When they came to take her away the next day, they wondered how she had managed to do this.