— Angela Hayes, American Beauty
— The Beach (via kstwylah)
Under her wedding dress sweat stings her thigh, where the groom’s father has left a cut with his wedding ring which he wears fastidiously.
With the knives relocated to the top shelf, she could no longer reach them unassisted. But then neither could he. Yet.
Chopped hair deranged false floorboards. Now, almost twins. She moaned nastily at his wife in the mirror, whose eyes betrayed her anguish. They both fingered his ivory shirt. The crimson stains on his collar revealed the intimate affair. Repudiated, she erased him. When he called her the ringtone was unrecognizable.
“Like you, I am a museum of stains. I hope she learns to ignore them,” the cheap hotel room said.