[Manuscript in progress. I'll start posting once it has enough favorites, or when my other novel is finished.]
Margaret dreamed of Rosanna again.
She leaned her arms on the railing, her hair tousled by the wind. Her discarded long dress lay in a heap at her feet.
Ornately patterned stockings hugged her long, shapely legs, and the garter clasp that kept them from slipping hung at her soft waist.
One side was fastened, while the other looked as though it had been violently torn loose, dangling against the outside of her thigh.
The ruby on her necklace was absurdly large, making her slender neck seem too delicate to bear its weight.
The fine chain, studded with diamonds, refracted glaring spots of light. Some links swayed gently in the breeze, while others caught on the thin black strap on her shoulder, nearly swallowed by the soft flesh beneath it.
She wore only one glove. The other rested on the railing, and her exposed arm was covered in bruises.
A freshly lit cigarette was pinched between her fingers. Smoke drifted slowly from her full, red lips.
Her beautiful, lifeless face had the cold sheen of a sculpture, and her snow-white skin held a dull, ashen glow.
She lowered her gaze indifferently. Her dark brown eyes were like cloudy glass as she said without a hint of sincerity, "I'm sorry."
Theme: Give it everything you've got.
