Pearls

By Bonnie Wilson

Falling pearls—an acute reverberating sound on the rich, glossy hardwood that seems to last ages instead of seconds. Lovely, iridescent pieces of her life dropping to the floor, leading to this one elongated moment. Each pearl representative of every joyous, perfect, sad, decrepit moment of a life no more.

The joy of first love.

The perfection of life made.

The sadness of love lost.

The decrepitude of betrayal.

A diffused thud. Sounds of silk settling upon an almost corpse.

Dark, dying eyes, so beautiful in their surprise and misery, fall on familiar soft, sable shoes and pearls strewn in blood.