Flash of a Camera

I look up at her staring down at me from her golden perch; it had been the fourth time this week that she'd done this to me. I look up at her face, but see nothing; that hood of hers had never failed to conceal. I trace her form with my fingers, she does not see this tracing in the air; she appears blind, and she does not ever see my hands. I admire her perfectly curved form, her slender legs on that perch as she stares down at me; she caused me to be paranoid. I don't want to be paranoid, and I don't want to have her prowling after me every day.
From day one through four, she never alerted anyone else, or altered her position; she was my forever gargoyle, and nobody noticed or even acknowledged her presence except I, and this was the way it would eternally be. She's got nicely shaped arms, gently risen thighs... nice breasts.
I admire her every feature, no matter the ones that I cannot see. It should have been perverted, but I do not hate being considered perverted because I admire somebody.
I do not know her name, her ethnicity, her age. I raise my camera out of its pouch, before aiming the object at her, before firing a light flash. Even in the flirtatious light, I do not see a single feature in her face, no matter how close she seemed to be to me. I watch her fall, and I grow curious. Was she technophobic? Scared of cameras, maybe? No, she doesn't fall back - she falls forward, although she does not land graciously. Her leg nooks one of the clothing racks, and it dampens her fall.
As though she was losing strength, she grabbed for the nearest ledge, before letting go, and simply falling the rest of the way. I go, and inspect her. I lower the hood, and it is not a simple feat. It rips off a chunk to her face, sewn to her like an article of clothing on a rag-doll. I admire her face, even still. She's as beautiful as the day I first saw her; perfectly curved, slender legs; nicely shaped arms, gently risen thighs; most of all, nice breasts...
Even with that quarter-shaped hole in the middle of her face, she's admirable. She's perfect, and will always be. I don't care how many countless others have come into my house, uninvited, and asked on why I have such a beautiful wife... I don't give them any answers. I will always protect my wife...
Although, I do admit... I did use a firearm on her.
Category:Reality
Category:Diary/Journal
Category:Items/Objects
Category:Mental Illness