Grace

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on, and she loved me.

I couldn't understand why she did, but every waking moment she reminded me.

I never told her how lucky I was, because it wasn't luck; I wasn't a lucky guy.

My whole life was a mess and the only thing that made any sense in it for once was her.

She woke up next to me every morning and pressed her lips with mine.

I often wondered what I had done to deserve Grace.

Some nights I would wake from my sleep and walk to the balcony and gaze at the stars,

Occasionally glancing back at her silhouette that moved with every inhale and exhale.

I'd then make my way back to our bed, where we made love most nights, and some just dreamed away.

One night Grace rose from our bed as she felt me gone from her side.

Like she figured, I was standing on the balcony thanking God for the woman of my dreams.

She came from behind me and gently put her arms around me.

It was around two in the morning, as I recall it.

She didn't say a single word; she simply pressed herself against my back.

The cold breeze that touched our faces smelled of clean sheets hanging from a string, and Mrs. Garner’s burnt lasagna.

Everything around us was tranquil, dim, and inaudible.

When her tug was oh so gentle I could hardly feel it, I grabbed her hand and turned around to look at her.

Not a lot of time had passed by when she opened her mouth to speak, ever so quietly.

Her mouth moved and I listened.

I had nothing to say.

She looked up at me with soaking eyes and a slight hesitance before her avowal of innocence.

I walked toward the opposite edge of the balcony and looked down in frustration.

She, as if modestly trying to make things better, closed her robe and walked toward me.

Why did she do that?

My body, that was now functioning not on my own behalf but almost demonic, jolted around.

Without hesitation or consideration for what she was muttering about,

I reached out and held her tightly by the same pipe she used to confess.

I could see the life draining from my beautiful Grace's eyes like a single candle being put out in a dark room;

I enjoyed every second of it but nothing like the sound of her body meeting the floor with such elegance.

Even then she was sophisticated and flawless.

My body was cold and no touch could I possibly feel.

I picked her up and laid her on our bed for tonight we would dream.

The sun hit me in the face with rage.

I squinted my eyes and kissed Grace's cold purple lips.

She looked perfect and beautiful as she reposed there.

I told her my plans for that day and she, like always, listened attentively.

The hours passed.

And, well, I had to do something about Grace.

I told her to get ready because we would have company that night.

Being she was incapable of doing it herself I decided to dress her.

She looked like she had never looked before, dressed in a delicious All'amatriciana sauce.

When the time was just right there was a knock at the door.

I looked through the small opening and there they were― our guests.

I greeted them in with a smile.

They complimented the overwhelming aroma of the dish I had prepared.

"It took me all day," I proudly exclaimed after a deep exhale.

They promptly asked for Grace, and the anger began to rise in me again.

The thought of how beautiful she looked now comforted me.

"She isn't feeling well tonight, we'll just have to continue without her."

I served the main dish and after everyone had seconds there appeared to be nothing left of the entre I had made.

After everyone said goodnight and parted, I noticed there was a small piece of Grace left on the table.

I walked to it and smelled the sweet scent that tended to rise from her and smiled.

"Goodbye, honey," I said as I dumped the leftovers into the garbage.

No one ever heard from Grace again.