#household Mr Alex - Chandelier Death

We don't have much else
to talk about, we've bored the subject of wine tasting, politics, money and general gossip. Is that all these people talk about? I think, again.

Portly, Mr Griffiths has know fallen asleep, as he breaths it's gently tilting his glass of mulled wine. He did this last year and the year before that, every year actually.

Once again,
I am here at Antonio's big manor house at his family's Christmas
party. I'm the only common folk here, in my
cheap Primark dress and hand me down heels. I'm in this every year.

I've positioned myself closely to the dance floor and closely to the beautiful chandelier with mistletoe hanging from it,
again this year.

Could this be the day I get a kiss from Antonio? I think to myself, the same I do every year.

As the more posh couples swoop in the chandelier sways. I carry on watching it like all the other years.

I look at the cloaked man approaching me, like every year.
I watch the bloody knife
fall from his grip as I too fall down.

And I think to myself,
'If I were a glass bead on your metal rim can you sway me towards my fate.' like I do every year.

Then the diamond bead from the chandelier falls straight through my hand, like last year.

And then I get what I was wanting, a kiss from Antonio under the chandelier with mistletoe that sends me to my grave like every year.

Each year I visit my murder and each time it hurts until I look up and see you.

Like I do every year.