Suspended Masonry

"It was a morning of firsts. I'd neither killed a man before, nor fallen in and out of love within an hour. Maybe that's not true. Maybe I'd fallen in and out of love within an hour many a time, but there are moments when everything just seems a louder.

She was perfect. In that instant she was perfect. You know, that moment before you even know her name or hear her yapping laugh or have her push a knife into your stomach, metaphorically or, in this case, literally.

We met in a coffee shop. Most customers wrestle with the latch as they enter but not her, she owned all that she saw. The place was full, apart from the seat opposite me. 'You don't mind' was all she said. It was no question but she was right.

I made some vapid comments about the weather which she ignored, instead telling me she liked my shirt. I didn't tell her that I liked everything about her from her softly angular face to the merest hint of crows feet framing astonishing green eyes to the worn elbows of her fitted tweed jacket to the chain around her delicate neck. Off the chain hung a couple of loops missing a pendant or cross. I thanked her.

I had to go meet a guy about a thing. It's not important what, or rather I'm unable to say at present. She smiled as I left, cutting off any question I might gather the courage to ask.

It was only a few minutes after I arrived at the guy's workshop that the bell rang again. He went out to deal with the visitor and I heard voices raised and glass breaking. The rest is unclear. I mean, I know I've left questions unanswered already but the rest is unclear even to me.

I'm not an aggressive person but neither am I a pushover. I've used violence where necessary but I'm known to be fair. Whatever, the guy's head hit the wall harder than it should. A blade clattered on the concrete. I was shaking. It was her of course. She smiled as if in thanks and I hugged her, thinking she might need support but knowing that I just wanted appreciation.

I don't know when I realised. It wasn't a moment; love turned to comprehension like running a tap and feeling it go from cold to warm to hot to pain. Heat becoming pain. I never felt the knife.

She went past me into the workshop and then stepped over me as she left. I crawled after her, not to follow, only to get away."