Twist and Shout

She lay sprawled on her back, feet resting up the wall watching the shadows of the birds flicker across the floor due to the falling sun. The air was warm and shifted easily through the opened window, shashes of curtain billowing in the entering breeze.

The room was entirely empty save for these window coverings and it seemed almost a shame. It was a large, bright square room with clean hard wood floors, tall ceilings and broad, spotless cream walls — the very bones of the room seemed to radiate warmth through the countless memories that had transpired within it’s walls.

As the breeze picked up, her white dress began to swish about her thighs where it lay in graceful folds on the floor. The material whispered gently, hushed tones to her skin as it slid where the wind pushed it about.

Her eyes were an absurd colour of green that only seemed embodied by the scene of fresh mown grass and bright algae and was only accentuated by the dark chestnut of her long curly locks. Ultimately, she was an extrodinarily attractive woman but from that she paid little heed. She had never been one to situate herself in front of a looking glass, peering for hours upon hours into its depths trying to tame her somewhat wild and rambunctious mane. ‘What will be will be,’ She frequently said to herself.

From the warm, sun-filled room, what she saw however was a vivid contrast. Her vision was filled with brambles and iron, temptation and suffering– these were seen on her face as it warped into a grimace, mottled colouring just touching her temples. Just as quickly as it came, the grimace passed, her face once more easing into the flawless mask it was previous. She was amused, ‘That hasn’t happened in a few hours.’

As the sun came lower and lower, the last final bursts of heat softly cupped her face giving her stark paradoxial difference between her emotions and the physicality of the world.

Everything is so futile. She thought to herself sullenly as a sparrow landed on the window sill.

Seeing the room to be quiet and so-far harmless, the little bird sprang down into the room and hopped his way over to the still form on the floor. The thing was flooded in tiers of white satin and lay unmoving save for it’s eyes which flickered deftly under mostly-closed eyelids.

The bird paused and cocked his head, taking a moment to ponder what the further course of action was to be.

Suddenly, her face re twisted and she grabbed at the bosom of her dress as if to ensure she was still in the material. Her eyes flew open, eyelashes though dark and luxurious as they flew towards her forehead. This time a fine sweat broke out on her forehead.

All the pain, all the worry, all the accidents everything she had encountered in her past came flooding back to her and hit her over the head. Her back arched up off the floor as she took a tremendous gasp and shuddered.

The sparrow peered at her quizzically, at first frightened by this sudden flury of movement but settled once she stopped moving. The bird crept over to her body. Nothing.
Up her arm which lay dantily at her side. Still nothing.
Finally he went up to her face and put his beak near to her slightly parted mouth.

She was gone.