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Possessive.

       Fiction..


                  The cool evening breeze plays with her silky brown hair, as she sits in her chair, gazing at the horizon. Her limpid blue eyes,  which reflect the clear waters of the ocean, stare into the distance, unblinking. Not a movement does she make, as she sits there, with her hands sitting smug in his.

"What are you thinking about, my dear? Are you on one of those long trips to nowhere, again?" her husband asks mockingly. He leans over and nuzzles her hair, placing soft kisses along her neck, taking in her perfume, which sends shivers down his spine. "You know how I love these moments we share -- just the two of us. In this cozy world of ours. Far from the...what did you call it? The maddening crowd? Or, was it, the madding crowd?" he murmurs into her ear,  as his hand glides down to the small of her back.

       At the sound of a distant horn, he jerks and backs away, all of a sudden conscious of the watchful eyes in the dark. He quickly gets up and wheels his wife back inside, into the living room. "Time to go back in, honey. You know the drill, don't you?  Any  more time outdoors and the flies begin to buzz. And, those pesky dogs begin sniffing the air, like hungry wolves. We don't want anymore blood around here, now, do we?" his murmurs now a rasp.
   
       He wheels Nina to the corner of the living room, lifts her up and dumps her  into the stuffed chair with the bloodied upholstery. Breathing heavily after the exercise, he stands glaring at his dead wife.
"It was all your fault, you know that, you bitch? I had warned you against getting all friendly with the guys.  You were mine, MINE! Was I not enough for you? You..."   a hard  kick sends  Nina and the chair flying across the room, where she lies motionless, her eyes staring blankly at him.

NaBloPoMo November 2014

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