Posted Saturday October 29
Gideon clutched Amelia’s velvet cloak to his cheek, the redolence of her alluring aroma embracing his very soul. A wispy cloud curled upwards from the silvery bowl that sat on the table before him, its oily contents twinkling in the candlelight.
She had run to the arms an odious swine. Gone, but soon to return. Of that he was sure. For now, his jealousy knew no bounds. He had the power to draw her back to the place she belonged.
The busy words he muttered echoed from every corner of the room as he weaved the spell that would destroy his foe and reunite him with his very reason for living.
‘Avullum naevus condluti vestinum.......’
When all was done that could be done, he dropped the cloak into his lap and leaned back, his eyes shut. The chamber fell silent, still. The flame flickered then was no more.
In the gloom, he waited and waited, then waited no more for the door creaked and slowly opened. Within its frame, a figure stood. Motionless, shrouded in darkness.
Gideon was found the following morn, bereft of life. Was it she or her baleful beau that performed the dastardly deed? I know not, and ne'er I shall.
Written for The Sunday Whirl where the given words are - busy, curl, silvery, bowl, class, echoing, drop, jealous, velvet, oil and light.