The Art of stockings
- 4 years ago
- 27
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Marek looked at his reflection in the tall mirror that the staff had placed in his study, his bride had taken over their bedroom so he had the staff bring everything he needed to prepare for the big day down to his study. His three piece suit fitted him perfectly and he thought it strange that the suit made him look and feel even more like the lord of the manor.
He took out his pocket watch and flipped it open, almost time to go, just one last thing to take care of and he would be ready.
Marek walked slowly over to the far door of his study. Opening the door he looked out into the living room of his flat.
His body lay sprawled in his large leather television chair, he could clearly see the effects of leaving his body unattended for several days. The cheeks were sunken and his eyes were so shadowed he looked to just have large dark pits where his grey eyes used to be.
Marek took a long look at his body and sighed slightly as he closed the door. Reaching into his suit pocked Marek drew out a heavy iron key that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He paused for a moment before inserting the key in the lock and briskly turning it.
His hand shook slightly as Marek held the key and watched it shimmer and disappear. Swallowing a lump in his throat Marek rested his hand on the door and watched it fade away leaving an unbroken wall in it’s place showing no evidence that there had ever been a door there.
Squaring his shoulders Marek turned his back on his old life to face his new life, his wedding and the new wife and daughter that were waiting for him in the great hall. The End ... or?
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