Snow White



Sometimes even the most violent scenes can look peaceful; it all depends on the soundtrack. When the woman released her first wail, I only heard it for a fraction of a second, then my ears clogged up and all I heard the rest of the time was a soft whooshing, like gentle ocean waves.

She sank to the floor, curling up as if she was folding into herself or as if she were the baby. As the blood began seeping from between her legs, I though how lucky it would be if I were allowed to start over, to try again with all the knowledge I have now, or even without my gathered knowledge to just get another chance to do the right thing.

My mind must have gone away for a while. When I again saw what was before me, she lay pale and crying on the floor, and with the iron in my nostrils and the ebony of her hair, I was reminded of Snow White.

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