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He sat on the sofa with his head in his hands. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The police would be there soon. He had called them to confess.

How had it come to this?

She had been so beautiful; so delicate, so perfectly formed. He had given his heart to her completely, entirely. He had given her everything could ever want. Dresses, suits, skirts, blouses, fur coats, literally hundreds of pairs of shoes, every designer accessory conceivable.

She was his life, and he would have done anything for her.

How could it have gone so wrong?

She had taken everything he had given her. For so long, he had told himself that she loved him back, but suddenly he had seen that it wasn’t so. Her smile was fixed; her eyes were elsewhere. She was thinking about somebody else. All the time. Even when he was right there.

He had confronted her. She refused to tell him who the other man was. She just stood there, silently. Wearing the dress he had given her. The shoes. The handbag. Even that ribbon in her hair. Everything she had, he had given it to her, and she couldn’t even be honest with him?

He had snapped. His hands had closed upon her delicate body and he had-

He had killed her. He had torn her apart with his bare hands.

On his knees, he crawled towards the coffee table. She lay there, in two pieces, where he had thrown her. Her torn clothes were scattered around her. He reached out for her, lifting her tiny body with one hand.

His tears fell upon her body, and the paper doll slowly disintegrated.

© Kari Fay

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