His feet pound the pavement.
From the shadows he’s observed her all day.
At last, alone. His reward for a hard day’s work.
He grabs her, she screams.
Her cries muddled into a handkerchief initialed LBR.
Who is he? She’ll never know, her eyes, so heavy…longing for sleep.
His hands clasped around her neck, their eyes locked.
The irony. She’d always thought of death metaphorical.
She now feels it’s tangibility.
The culmination of a sensual day spent making love from afar.
They entered the house.
Flush with the effects of good wine, she twirls.
His eyes, intent, follow the dance of fabric against her bare thigh.
He follows her lead.
Slowly making their way up the stairs to their room.
Slender fingers removing his tie. Discarding his shirt.
Calloused hands sliding spaghetti straps down shoulders.
Skimming across skin, the warmth of familiarity,
The lushness of pleasures assured.
Lips, moist, scorching exposed skin.
Teeth, grazing. Eyes, hazy.
Trembling hands struggle to hold on, clinging to sheets, to him.
Eyes locked, body tense.
They know, they feel.
This piece is written in the Slice of Life format. Often used in film, books, and plays, it attempts to capture moments in life.