by Page Wright
He left me, alone in the darkness, so that he could track his prey, alone. I'm not sure if it was the first time he left me, or if I ever had him to lose, but it was the last time he walked away from me. He went to chase the wolf that had been attacking our home and all those close to us; he went to save us and to destroy us. The wolf did not tear us apart, he did, he chose to go out into the night alone, away from me, away from the home we made together. The wolf killed him, but he killed me. Martin was mauled, murdered, viciously taken, while I slept silently and never woke up.
6S
Page Wright writes from Hertfordshire.
20091010
The Night We Died
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11 comments:
A fine six!
something very touching about this. a good six!
Paige, so much real emotion in a moment of midnight murdered time. Lovely (but sad) contrast of sleeping through loss happening for all the wrong ramifications. A six feeling that lingers on . . .
Dark, beautiful and sad.
Thought provoking as to who does what for what reasons, and the results regardless of reasoning.
Page--killer (no pun intended) last line to end a nice six.
Nice one, sorry Six.
So many layers to this, really enjoyed it. Well not enjoyed in the true sense of the world (because it's heartwrenchingly sad), but enjoyed the craft and story.
Brill.
Kx.
Nice work. The wording of this is great. This has a powerful ending.
Thank you for all the comments.
This is immaculate—perfect word choice and use, perfectly profound—left me hushed, awed.
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