I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. His voice is raspy and weak as he pulls me in close. “My darling girl. My beautiful, darling girl. Why?” Rebellious tears roll down my cheeks. I want to be strong and stoic but I’m not. The wooden stake protruding from his chest spells an end for us both…he is dying and I am free.

mirror reflection
turning this way and that way
finding sheer delight
confidence filling a heart
bewitching monstress dancing

© 2019 Donna Mathews

Donna Matthews started writing a couple of years ago when her children started leaving her nest. She enjoys writing poetry, prose, and short stories.  In addition to writing, she also loves to read, paint, take pictures, and explore the world on foot. She is passionate about helping others find their voice in both the writing and art communities.

Read more of her writing at DJ RANCH