“It must be somewhere, the original harmony, / somewhere in great nature, hidden.” – Juhan Liiv, “Music” (Translated from the Estonian by H.L. Hix & Jüri Talvet)
You put on the silver mask. Its cool edges mold to the temples, the cheeks, the jaw. Through the almond-shaped eyes you see the form of your beloved lying on the couch. He is asleep.
His long lithe body is restful in sleep. When he is awake he is all tension, all wired muscles and taut limbs. When he is awake you fear he will leave you. But he is asleep now. Now is your chance.
You go to the kitchen, still wearing the silver mask, still seeing through the almond eyes. The poison is there. You got the poison from the old witch on the corner who reads palms and does Tarot cards. She gave you the perfect purple pill and told you to dissolve it in a glass of wine. You pour a glass of Merlot and you drop the pill into it. You take the wine out to the living room and set his glass on the coffee table.
You feel the strict edges of the mask bite into your skin. You’ve waited for this moment, and now it is here.
It has been said that life is always a matter of waiting for the right moment to act.