Past Pretty

I use to have these thoughts that got me reeling into an obsessive frenzy. One time I had driven by a funeral home just getting done and saw the family leaving the home and getting into limos. Not sure who she was, but a tall slender lady in black dress and hat/vale got my attention. For months after that I daydreamed of her going back inside the funeral home and me going in after her and both of us hiding in a coffin together.
When the night came around we emerged and walked down to the nearby cemetery. We saw the empty hole where the body would lay, mist covering the ground and my favorite knife in hand. She just stared into the dark pit mesmerized by something I couldn't fathom. I only reacted by hitting her in the ribs with my knife and she barely moved. I took a few more stabs at it in various places and she was a marble statue, not budging an inch no matter how hard the blows came. She was a sack of potatoes with blood oozing out. She was my fantasy!
I never could get her to fall into the open grave and must have been frustrating for her and I alike. Seemed like she wanted to be buried there under her loved one who would follow the next morning. I kept stabbing and she kept starring, but the sweetest part was the mess I was making all over myself;) Spent the last of the evening licking her wounds and stashing her in the woods for the next night.
jonten jonten
31-35, M
Jan 13, 2013