Story of an hour

Elizabeth Laboy Marte                                                January 12, 2015

        The plain sight of her husband made her wish that the roof upon her head would fall down and crash the deception she felt deep inside. This was the cruelest joke life has played on her. Josephine whispered in awe “It’s him. It’s your husband.” . Louise couldn’t believe what was happening. A piercing cry escaped from her throath, and she ran upstairs faster than the wind. She closed the door and the house trembled. In the room she had once felt victorius, glorious and free, she know feels defeated, frustrated and as if her dignity has been stomped over. She now felt her soul was again imprisoned and was desperate to find a way out. Ignoring the sound of people banging on her door, begging her to surrender and come back to reality, she looked at the window. Where she once saw happiness and clarity, it’s where she sees her only escape. As Mr. Mallard, Josephine and Richards enter the door, they were confused and amazed at Louise’s reaction. And what they saw it’s something no one wishes to see…the window was dripped with blood and in the floor was a dead body.

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