Gloria (Rania's prompt contest)

Over a yawning-morning-city,
birds stretched across
a strawberry-swirl sky.

All the long day
bustling-feet beat the streets;
whilst lorries, cars and bikes
chased the heat, until finally
smiling, it tipped its hat
to the wide-eyed-moon.

In the snouting-delving-dusk
a slavering stare
watched the street-walkers
patrol the heeled-stocking-corners.

Yesterday’s headline
wafts wide and
quakes on the pavement. . .

“The Alphabet Killer strikes
for the sixth night in a row!
Last night, Flora Moore, 24,
was lethally stabbed
with a single pencil
which, like the others, was
left, like a dart, in her eye”

…before, being wind-snatched.

“Are you lonely, honey?”
she says, playfully,
leaning into the car window

they drive for
just a few lonely-streets.

“what will it be, sugar?”
she, coos.

Back-lit, his eyes
‘Glow’
Wider, his smile
G r o w s

Then, in a guttural growl:

“You're gonna die!”

Leathered-wing-beats crawled
across a glowering moon
as the lead-sharp pencil was raised. . .

Within a split-second,
fire-filled rage
snuffed all light

CRACK
An explosion

Pomegranate brain
erupted as skull splinters
ricocheted, pebbling:
- windows
- lining
- seats

and. . .

as wiry globules
of psychopath were still
sliding onto the
dash,
Gloria wiped
her face
her gun, and left
into the
noiseless-grinning-night.

.

.

- Mr. Darcy
© 2018