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The Kill
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A thousand lights began to dance.
Renée stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed, as though this magnification of the horizon, these soft meadows moistened by the night air, had made her more acutely aware of the emptiness of her existence.
Renée, for all her jadedness, experienced a singular sensation of unavowable desire at the sight of this landscape, which she no longer recognized, this tastefully fashionable piece of nature turned by the dark chill of night into a sacred wood, into one of those mythical glades in which the ancient goods hid their outsized loves, their divine zabranjenoeries and incest’s. As the calèche drove on, it struck her that land of her dreams in its shimmering veils and was making off with it, snatching away the lower of illicit but superhuman love in which she might at last have assuaged her ailing heart, her weary flesh.
"Loving, being loved – one soon gets sick of it, no?
Yes indeed. One gets sick of it."
She seems to be asleep with her eyes wide open.
A tremendous temptation welled up from all that emptiness.
A thousand tiny breaths blew across her flesh; unfinished dreams, unnamed pleasures, vague wants - at the hour when the sky turns pale can put into a woman’s weary heart.
With childish pleasure, she dreams of the wonderful ...
Her eyes filled with shadow by the darkness of the park, blinked at the sudden flood of the light, giving her a hesitant, nearsighted look that only added to her grace.
That winter was one of endless joy.
Yet her hidden poverty was for her merely one more source of pleasure.
They were like old lovers, whose kisses were steeped in nostalgia.
We loved each other without knowing it.
I have crime on my own.
The lovers were in love.
Displayed their wounds like trophies.
Nobody knows who I really am.
His mocking tone wounded her.
He made me see stars in broad daylight.
We’re in fine mess.
She could not take her eyes off that void.
Silence terrified her more that sound of a murder. She was afraid of this peace. Then everything vanished into the sunset. She rediscovered the eternal joys, the eternal youth, of open air.
She sobbed into the falling night.
...
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