There are flashes of images there, sequential, telling a story. She met him. She was young, she used to be pretty until the river bloated her grotesquely, turned her skin the texture of grey cheese. He never said I love you but she heard it anyway in the way he touched her hair, called her secret petnames when they made love, told her she was different from the other girls. They picnicked here, he gave her a Claddagh ring, the one still digging into her bloated finger. He never said I love you but he said he could see himself marrying her, so she waited, and then —
His things in her apartment, but he wasn't there. How her clothes didn't fit her anymore, but she wore the dress he liked. She poisoned herself before she jumped, just to be sure.
Below that, her feelings are pretty clear. Anger. Disgust. Anger. Sadness. Anger. Rejection — not that he left her, but that he left her to die.
"Get out of my river," she growls, her voice too low and raspy, like there's silt stuck in her (his) throat. She lifts them both in the air — Wolfgang, at least, if Ilde can't be moved from the water — and tosses them on the bank.
tw: suicide
There are flashes of images there, sequential, telling a story. She met him. She was young, she used to be pretty until the river bloated her grotesquely, turned her skin the texture of grey cheese. He never said I love you but she heard it anyway in the way he touched her hair, called her secret petnames when they made love, told her she was different from the other girls. They picnicked here, he gave her a Claddagh ring, the one still digging into her bloated finger. He never said I love you but he said he could see himself marrying her, so she waited, and then —
His things in her apartment, but he wasn't there. How her clothes didn't fit her anymore, but she wore the dress he liked. She poisoned herself before she jumped, just to be sure.
Below that, her feelings are pretty clear. Anger. Disgust. Anger. Sadness. Anger. Rejection — not that he left her, but that he left her to die.
"Get out of my river," she growls, her voice too low and raspy, like there's silt stuck in her (his) throat. She lifts them both in the air — Wolfgang, at least, if Ilde can't be moved from the water — and tosses them on the bank.