a talent for writing

My Sacrifice

…the thunderstorm raged angrily that night, and the rough sea bumped violently against the rocks. The big castle on the cliff looked desert.

A sad, slow melody came  softly from it.  A young man, alone in the darkness of a room, was playing the piano. A flash of lightning illuminated his sad face, his long black hair, his white shirt. He was playing a melody of grieve, for his dead young wife.

The shadow of a girl was out of the castle, walking toward it under the pouring rain. Her blond hair hid her face, she was wearing only a fine white nightgown. Suddenly, the crash of a thunder, and the girl appeared at the door of the room. She looked at the man, still. He stopped playing, looked at the girl, and burst into tears. A red bloodstain appeared on his chest. The melody didn’t stop, the sea and the storm quieted down….

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