Skye Maelstrom Faust
It was a beautiful courting, perfect in almost every way. He was
certainly a gentleman, a good upstanding individual with few faults.
And he was so charming and handsome.
Everyday he would send me flowers and poetry, and every night he would stop by to see me, if only for a moment.
In almost all ways he would have made a wonderful husband and lover. That is, all ways save one: I was in love with another. And because I could not bear to break his heart, I let him send me roses and sonnets.
But then the news finally went round. I was now engaged. And not to him.
He came to me to see if that was the truth. I could not even look at him.
A single tear broke from his eye, running slowly down his smooth, beautiful face.
He looked at me. I knew that I could not possibly understand his pain, though it seemed to stare directly at me. His eyes seemed to probe me, darting at everything within the room, never once looking into my eyes.
It was when he did that the tear dropped to the floor. He staggered away - almost as quickly as he could.
It was not until later that I heard the gunshot.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story is a copyright of Skye
Maelstrom Faust (Michael Woods), 1998. All rights reserved.