Walls the color of tears

Jenny cowered in the corner between the nightstand and the high-backed chair, the reflection of her blonde hair from the window’s twilight the only visible entity in the Manhattan studio. She felt Bill stomping across the courtyard, entering through the back utility door, galloping up the back stairwell three steps at a time, like a bloodhound on the scent, coming directly to her. She'd turned out the lights, long before assuming her present position, a cat ready to pounce on its prey.

That afternoon, she'd witnessed what she'd long suspected, Bill having an affair with Dina, right under her nose, right across the courtyard at the Old Memories Inn. She couldn't believe her husband was sleeping with an easy divorcee so slatternly as Dina. Once, she could forgive, but she knew, from what she witnessed this afternoon, its duration, how long Bill stayed with her, how many times her binoculars betrayed the shadows bouncing back and forth like a misshapen pendulum -- all from the two narrow windows of her studio apartment.

So she'd retreated to the corner, like a cat, ready to pounce the moment Bill entered the apartment. She heard heavy footsteps approach, each step louder than the previous, the hard black leather soles of the man's shoes mocking her, daring her to confront him. The key made a staccato sound as he put it in the lock. The door opened. He turned the light switch -- nothing, no light. She peeked at him from behind the chair, saw his 220 pounds of muscle and ignorance. He seemed confused when he called, "Jenny? The light switch doesn't work!"

She jumped up from behind the chair and landed the heavy steel knife right in the center of his chest. His voice croaked as he fell backward into the outer hallway, turning around in chaotic spasms and falling on his chest, the knife lodged even deeper in his convulsing body. And before Jenny knew it, the convulsions ceased as he lay in a pool of blood. The walls played out hallucinogenic patterns of dark red on the frozen white walls.

Jenny, her eyes blazing with satiated desire, stood in the doorway, blood on her hands and her dress. She heard more footsteps -- lighter, more delicate, approach from around the corner. Jenny saw Dina appear down the hallway, and then she turned, startled to run back into the apartment –