It's Still Life

#8 of 27: Glimmourne – A Colour Once Felt, Not Seen

#8 of 27: Glimmourne – The ache of beauty that betrays you

She stands in the back corridor after the show, still wearing the silk-and-lace dress the audience said made her look like fire, smiling the way they taught her—teeth, dimples, neck exposed like trust on display.

Felreil waits at the exit, not blocking the way—only standing still in the doorway, where the glow doesn’t quite reach and the truth doesn’t need to.

She walks toward him slowly, heels clicking like questions, clutching the roses they gave her for being unforgettable—roses that already smell like funerals.

Just before she passes him, she hesitates, tilts her head, and says—not to him exactly, but to the air between them—“Do you think they saw me… or just the shimmer?”

Felreil doesn’t blink, doesn’t answer—only reaches out and gently touches one petal, which turns brown beneath his fingertip as if the Colour had been waiting to die.

She leaves without waiting for a reply, and though her smile stays on her face, her shadow does not follow.

---

Previous Instalments – To access all of the instalments on one page, please use this link

Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “Lace”.  Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.