Essay about The Perfect Red : Rich As Blood With Specs Of Gold
“It looks lovely on you, Marla.”
She lay breast deep in a tub of hot water, drifting between dreams and cold realities as Cora painted her nails.
“Do you know what you’ll wear this evening?”
In less than four hours 1419 Warlow Drive would once again be filled with the joys of honest laughter and the satisfaction of acceptable music. They had hosted at least a dozen of these nights as a couple, and each time the company seemed to grow more dense and less appealing than the last.
“Get me a glass of wine.” Cora looked up from her position on the floor to meet Marla’s eyes. She began to argue this decision but thought better and did as she was told.
Feeling the now routine balance of the glass in her hand she took the first sip of the day. The warmth spread and she felt her body sub come to normalcy. Three more and she tossed back the final gulp with a sense of urgency. Cora watched her the whole time. She held the glass out to the side of the tub and Cora seized it from her weakening fingers.
Before anymore could be said Marla submerged herself underwater. She closed her eyes and listened as her heart slowed and her body relaxed; life had made her so tense these last years. She would often push to see how long she could stay under, each second more gratifying than the last until it was too much and she reluctantly pushed herself up from the water. Today it was twenty…