Beyond Rue Morgue Anthology
“Dear, young Peter Garrett, the handsome fellow who delivered milk with his horse and wagon to all the flats along Riggs Road, dead. Murdered. Killed and dragged into an alley, as his horse Sue stood alone out on the street, pawing the ground, sniffing, and nickering.
My heart is broken, my mind spinning. For I loved Peter. I loved his voice, his face, and the way his large but elegant hands held the reins, patted Sue’s broad shoulder, tossed biscuit crumbs to dogs on the street, and ladled milk from the tanks into the jugs left on doorsteps. That someone would hate him enough to steal his life is beyond any sort of reason. That he is dead is beyond comprehension. It was the one bright spot of my life, watching him from my third-floor window, imagining that he might someday come up and carry me off to be his bride. No, we never spoke. We never met. But I knew that, somehow, he would find me and love me.
But such hopes and dreams shall delight me never more.
For Peter is dead. I can bar...ely breathe with the horror of it.MoreLess
My heart is broken, my mind spinning. For I loved Peter. I loved his voice, his face, and the way his large but elegant hands held the reins, patted Sue’s broad shoulder, tossed biscuit crumbs to dogs on the street, and ladled milk from the tanks into the jugs left on doorsteps. That someone would hate him enough to steal his life is beyond any sort of reason. That he is dead is beyond comprehension. It was the one bright spot of my life, watching him from my third-floor window, imagining that he might someday come up and carry me off to be his bride. No, we never spoke. We never met. But I knew that, somehow, he would find me and love me.
But such hopes and dreams shall delight me never more.
For Peter is dead. I can bar...ely breathe with the horror of it.MoreLess
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