Margaret does not wait to hear what Angela might say. She rises at once, and grabbing her stick, and walks quickly in the direction of the gate. Angela and Jane both call after her, but she does not wait, and miraculously, she does not stumble, either.

She has never walked through the village alone since she became blind, and does not dare do so now – there are too many obstacles, and she has not yet learned to separate out the sounds of so many people, and work out how far away they are. She finds the bench out the front of Angela’s father’s shop and waits, trying to keep her face calm. Jane will catch up with her soon enough, and she will have to hide what she is thinking, what she is feeling.

She must play the part of the generous friend, the perfect wedding guest. The saintly, tragic cripple, sweetly resigned to the loss of her lover, and happy in her friends’ joy.

Margaret tries on an angelic smile. Most angels don’t grind their teeth, but that’s alright. She has two days in which to practice.

Nobody will see her coming.

You don’t actually have to kill anyone, you know. You could just walk away.

No. They must die.

I suppose you have a point. But don’t expect me to dance at their wedding.

[Wow, this is degenerating fast. Take me back!]

[Take me back to the start]


Michel-Ange – Auteuil fleur9left Jasmin fleur9right Ranelagh

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