Day 164

Lipstick smudges and curls wind themselves into the nape of her neck; remnants of a once-expensive updo. She is a mess. A wreckage of a woman - she shivers vainly at the thought. The beautifully tailored dress is ripped up the thigh, the frayed edges intermindled with her own blood.
The knife is like a dead weight at her throat.
His tongue trips over feeble lies. "I'm sorry." She can only hiss through the gagging fabric. "It wasn't my choice, darling. You understand what the business means to me, and this-"
She writhes against his grip, angry at her ignorance. She should've thrown the knife to his throat the moment her suspicions alerted her, yet, like a fool, she'd trusted him. Every faith she'd had in the naivity of love, but look at that mistake. Here she sat; scorned and gagged, bleeding and terrified, pressed against the icy metal of the railroad.
And for what gain? Her husband, a simpering man, feared losing his business once he'd angered some powerful men, and they'd named their price. He was a tycoon in the city - a rich accessory to fuel her excessive spending habits. What a mistake she'd made. She'd ignored those she trusted most; blinded by the wealth and pretty face of a frigid-hearted fool. The cost of the abundant luxuries had caught up with her at last, and that cost was her life.
Distantly, a horn blasted. Her time was swiftly escaping her.
Her vicious eyes found his. He bit his lip and she longed to tear at his throat.
"Forgive me, baby?"

I don't usually post my 365's on here because that's what my flickr is for, but I had to admit that I rather liked this one. It doesn't happen often, but this is so tongue in cheek that it suits what I was trying to do. Today, I went to Nottingham on the train with mum, which is what inspired this idea. They've invented these crazy things where you have to insert your ticket as you exit the station, after the point at which you've assumed you won't need it anymore, and mum had bent my ticket in half idly as the train was pulling into the station, so the machine let her through (it's a bit like the ones on the london underground) and then promptly spat my ticket right back at me four times, so we were stood there on opposite sides of the machine, her laughing hysterically despite the fact that it was her fault I was stuck in the station forevermore. Obviously I found the guy in the blue overall who let me out, but I did feel daft.