Liquid Smoke

Once again, all she could do was laugh.

Laugh at how fortune had suddenly turned into her best friend.

Here she was, an attractive, smart girl, who had conquered the demons from her past.

But, inside, she was still the caustic, spiteful little girl she had always been. This was only the antebellum.

She was tired from being at work all day, but her renewed alacrity gave her strength. Her heels clicked their way across the pavement and under the tree. She stared at the girl, deep in thought.

She’s become ugly...and the thought was all she needed to laugh some more. The woman dropped her cigarette suddenly and she turned abruptly.

She waited for recognition to dawn. She waited for the tears. She waited for the hug. She waited for the small talk. She waited for the proposition.

She had waited so many years; what was another evening?

After an impromptu dinner at the woman’s run-down apartment, she decided to make her move. She shoved her against a wall and, while running a cold fingernail down the front of her neck, she bit her ear.

They tried everything that night; there were no inhibitions. It was a dizzy mess. She remembered holding a funny, vibrating toy between her partner’s legs, and the inside of the woman’s thighs being slick and wet. She remembered the meaningless kisses, the deep, heaving breaths. She almost enjoyed herself. But she remembered her hatred and malice. She was familiar with the feeling of mortification. She poured that into everything she did, digging her nails deep into skin, lapping up the blood. The energy that rage gave her was incredible. Her partner would have noticed if she wasn’t enjoying herself so much.

In the small hours of the morning, they were rudely awoken from their just-obtained slumber by a pager beep.

It went on and on. The women grunted in unision.

Beep-beep-beep

“What the fuck is this?”

Beep-beep-beep

“It’s my pager...I’m a nurse at a hospital- in the anaesthet-”

“I don’t care!” [beep-beep-beep] “get it the fuck out of my house” the woman moaned.

Finally finding her pager, she shut it off. She got dressed at a pace that only nurses and doctors had ever been able to achieve. She smiled, looking at the overweight, sleeping woman in front of her. She had known she would not pay attention to what she was saying, what it meant.

She grabbed the woman’s beloved pack of cigarettes on the way out.

Late the next morning, she watched as her ‘lover’ woke up, stretched, and put on clothes.

She grabbed her pack of cigarettes, which had been replaced exactly as it was the previous night. She poured herself a cup of the coffee that was ready for her.

She gulped, and then blew smoke.

Again.

And again.

She watched, and maybe it was the giddiness of success, but she saw the beautiful woman who she had known in high school. She saw in front of her a woman with slender arms, full lips, and luscious hair.

She realized that all those years ago, she would have given anything to be her.

Now, she was better.

She watched the woman realize that her cigarette tasted funny, but go on anyway. She smiled.

She shifted her weight a little, as her body realized that something was horrible.

She tilted her head to one side, and she blew a kiss, as the woman’s breath came shorter, and she began to gasp for air.

She got up, heels clicking slightly on the linoleum, as the once-beautiful woman fell to the floor.

Ailish Beauregard walked calmly out of Alice’s run-down apartment, with the Body Shop lipstick she had stolen from her so many years ago.

Nobody at the hospital would notice that anything was wrong.

11 millilitres of chloroform would be lost in their world, just like the steady tapping of her heels was lost in the empty corridor on that beautiful, sunny day.