missincarnadine
The hoop that she twirled around her hips tingled on her skin. It was ablaze with fire, and she felt no pain. Only a brief kiss. Something to remind her that she was alive. She was thankful for that.
Denouemont... Accordion? Lotte was intently focused on her French exam when the barely audible, lofty tune of an accordion being played interrupted her rational thought pattern. Her mind wasn't much for wandering, she made certain of it. Whenever her thoughts meandered, Lotte was there, playing the role of a shepherdess guiding the thought-sheep back into their mind-pen with a barbed iron crook. The accordion's music increased the more she tried to forget about it.
Denouemont... Accordion? Lotte was intently focused on her French exam when the lofty tune of an accordion being played interrupted her rational thought pattern. Her mind wasn't much for wandering. Whenever her thoughts meandered, she was there, a shepherdess guiding the thought-heep back into their mind-pen with a barbed iron crook.
She stared at the dusty, broken accordion sitting on the shelf. She hadn't touched it since he died. Well, he didn't actually die, he just kind of left. He broke the accordion when he left. In a fit of anger he snapped the mechanisms and rendered it unplayable. He took sound with him and left in his wake silence.
He drank heavily tonight, moreso than usual. That stupid bitch was out of his life for good. A few swift blows with an axe, yes. He bashed her pretty little brains in. (Not that she actually had any to begin with). He was proud of himself. He had actually done something well. He raised his glass in the bar mirror, a toast to himself.