(Untitled)

[always_a_liar]

Pondering the enigma which was the curious compatibility of the smells of bleach, pine, and lemon, Elan sat on the couch ignoring his reading. It was an odd affair, truly, the delicate ménage à trois of bleach, pine, and lemon. Brutal, efficacious bleach, stern and rough-handed, caustic to eyes and nose, dominates the relationship, but as an

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[shelley_winters]

Blissfully unaware of the strange thoughts crowding Elan's mind, Shelley quietly makes her way downstairs, still preoccupied by Michael's message to her. She had tried to cry again a little earlier on, but found herself curiously unable to do so, numbed into calm.

She walks slowly past him on the couch, heading for the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

[always_a_liar]

Still contemplating the smells of the kitchen, Elan only noticed in passing Shelley's entrance. He glanced down at his book and resumed reading, keenly interested in the developments in the story.

[shelley_winters]

Shelley pushes open the kitchen door and wanders it, still lost in thought.

He said he could visit her again so perhaps...?

Sadly, her thoughts are then abruptly cut off as her slightly-heeled and slippery work shoes slide out from under her on the unexpectedly wet floor. A short shriek of shock is all she has time for as the counter rises up swiftly and cuts her off briefly from the world.

[always_a_liar]

The book clattered to the floor.

Elan called out to her. Something in his memory rising, but swept away by the tide of fear and worry.

"Shelley?"
Oh Light, no.
Beat.
Oh nononono
He was on his feet, still calling out to her, the only thought racing through his mind was her name, again and again.
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He did not remember throwing the kitchen door open, he did not remember his own feet sliding on the wet floor. He did not remember the overpowering smell of bleach burning his nostrils.
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When he saw her lying on the floor, bright blood spilled over the shining floor, her red hair spilled over the shining floor, he was again a little boy on his knees, desperately, futilely shaking the body of his mother, crying for her to wake up.