Crystallising

The knife went in with a gentle snick and very little resistance. Almost as though he was made of paper. It was a very gratifying feeling, that penetrating slide, and the little trickle of blood that started to seep was like a little bonus for being such an efficient girl. I bent over and licked it, tasting its iron saltiness and savouring its heat on my tongue.



He was incapable of speech now, looking at me with big blue eyes that filled with tears that seeped just like his blood. Idly, I wondered if they'd taste as good, but decided not to try. I withdrew the knife, and he gave one tiny gasp, and lay still.

It was all over so quickly.

I never would have guessed how easy it was.

But he deserved it. Oh yes, he did deserve it.

Why, do you ask?

I'll tell you.

He was boring. Bland. Staid. He made no contribution to the world. He got up at six every morning, showered, dressed, had a cup of coffee. Made his way to the station, picked up a newspaper to read on the way to work. He would switch on his computer and check his emails, then get down to his day's work. At four, he'd leave. Get the train back home. make some dinner, watch some television, go to bed alone. Weekends maybe he'd hit the pub.

When I stabbed him, so simply, so beautifully, with such artistry, I gave him a very precious gift. I gave him interest. Without me, he would have repeated that same day over and over till he died of old age in the arms of his equally old wife. But because of me, he will live forever as a young man, full of potential, life stretching out ahead of him, with this one interesting moment in his life crystallising him forever.