Champagne Glass
I held my champagne glass high
A man made a witty toast,
We all laughed in agreement.
And then we raised the liquid to our lips
As I looked around the vast living room,
And around the expensive furniture
I saw a couple,
That didn’t look quite right.
There was a tall man in a white suit
He held his chin out and swished his whine glass while he conversed.
Handsome and strong,
Laughing at all the wrong jokes.
The woman next to him filled me with envy,
Her dark features so perfectly defined
Hair pulled tightly together in a high ponytail.
Her black dress tailored magnificently.
Of course, although she’d tried to blend them ,
Using heavy makeup,
I’d be a fool not to notice,
All the bruises on her arms and legs.
They stood together,
But she never said a word.
While she listened to him talk,
Her gaze shifted towards the balcony.
I saw her lip was cut when she whispered
Into her husband’s ear,
A question.
He nodded reluctantly
The man wrapped his arm around hers
As they glided up the stairs
Quietly murmuring to each other,
Anything but words of love.
I forgot about them for a moment and a half,
But then we heard it
More spine-chilling than nails on chalk board.
Bang.
No one screamed when they saw his body drop,
And fall over the railing,
Down to meet our shoes.
Blood sprinkling the tile.
She looked at me and smiled with gun in hand
And raised it to her own head.