CASE 01: The Dinner Table
Murder mysteries but make it poetic- a series.
At dinner, everything knew its place.
His voice, the cutlery, the silence, me.
I learned smallness until it felt like sense.
Smaller voice, smaller wants, smaller..
Just. Smaller.
Until even my anger had to whisper to exist.
I set the table. I always set the table.
Same plates. Same glass. Same story,
waiting to be told again.
That night, I put something in the wine.
Not much. Enough.
I watched his mouth move through the story
he had told four hundred times,
the one where he was the hero,
the one where I was the background.
He slept before dessert.
I sat there feeling the space return.
The room stayed quiet.
It stayed mine
.
Loved this 💞