Moments - A Short Story
It’s easy. Just one smooth movement, deep enough to wreak havoc. That should do. It was raining outside. Not much; just enough for her to hear the pitter patter of the drops. Otherwise the streets were quiet. People were sleeping soundly on their comfortable beds, dreaming of wonderlands and good things. It was just her, in this dingy little room. It shouldn’t be hard. There isn’t anything else to do. She could just stop everything now. The end of all troubles. One slash on the wrist should do. But she couldn’t. A moment is nothing if not for the moments that lead up to it. She had been thinking about this night for a while now. A long time in fact. At first it was just a thought that crossed her mind during the dreadful of times. Just the image of her slashing her own wrist. As time passed, she began to imagine the moments before the slashing of the wrist; how she would lie in her bath, the warm water engulfing her body. She was doing just that now but the moment she pictur