Lady in Black

Prompt: Write a piece inspired by this soundtrack.

The rhythm of the cameras flashing follows the defendant as she enters the courtroom. Elegantly dressed in black, that forms a contrast to the features that gained her fame. Bright blue eyes and shiny golden locks adorn her pretty face. From her expression you would not think that a murder trial was being held. If it was confidence in her freedom or resignation to her fate no one could tell. Not even him, a well seasoned prosecutor that usually could separate the damned and innocent.

At least one could not say it was just a pretty face that inspired her acting career. Who hadn't been at this point to a Lilly Glendale performance at the theater in town? Any other leading lady paled in comparison to when the violins would strike up at her entrance.

Her eyes widened in recognition when she looked at the tribunal. Though it had been decades since he as a young lad used to mop up backstage for a summer job, she seemed unchanged, always a perfect canvas for other people's tales. Too perfect.

He did not hesitate though. Like the beating drums banging louder and faster when the villain made his entrance on stage so did his heart beat faster as he recited the evidence that made her guilty. She didn't defend herself though she made no admission. Instead choosing to look at him as if he was the one with blood on his hands.

He did begin to feel sick. Her defense stuttering, as he thought of the stolen kisses she gave right before the plays began. He had always stayed through the whole thing, even before she started receiving bouquets of roses at the end of a performance. She was older than him, so when those roses turned to cards left to her backstage, he had been dropped quicker than you could say “break a leg”.

It seemed ironic that even though he never set foot in that theater again he was still there to witness her final show. The climax was quick, the judge proclaiming her guilty of murder. No one clapped though as she left with a self satisfied smile. It was his job, but she had still left him feeling like if her blood really was on his hands.

Thus when everyone was preoccupied with her execution a few months later, he chose instead to let the tune the heroine died to play in the empty theater.

PS: This was originally posted here.

Flash Fiction

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