The evening snow fell gently, huge flakes…like feathers drifting on the smallest of breezes that play around the park at the centre of town. Dressed in the disguising clothes of winter, heavy coats, scarves, hats mittens and gloves they could have been anyone standing on that corner beneath the subdued light of the lamppost. Under the shadow of the old courthouse they embraced and kissed as only illicit lovers can, greedily as if it might be there last. When they finally came apart they laughed and at that time of night it echoed off the buildings in the square as they took each others mitt encased hands and walked along the side walk enjoying once again the Christmas lights still lit up along the windows and in the trees of the square. Few words were spoken yet there was so much to be said. They walked the garden paths leaving the town square behind until they found the park bench sheltered on three sides by the heavy trees and brush that faced out across the Serenity Bay. They had come here so often because of the protection it offered from the cold winds but also the protection it provided from the prying eyes of others.

Sitting he removed his mittens and he brushed a stray wisp of auburn hair that had escaped her wool cap and his fingers lingered on the rosy skin of her cheek. It hit him suddenly and he pulled his fingers back as if scalded and the look of fear instantly alerted her to danger.

“What is it hon? What’s wrong? Did you see someone we knew?” she asked all the questions that are on a lover’s mind who wears the ring of another.

She scanned the paths the trees, and even the frozen bay for what had so startled him and still he had made no response to her questions. She watched as his eyes which he had closed reopened and he tried to smile and pretend nothing had happened. Patiently after removing her own mitt she took his hand in hers and stroking it softly she tried to get him to tell her but the subject was closed it seemed.

            He knew he was silly for reacting so violently to the image he had not only felt but seen when his fingers had touched her cheek. As vivid as any case of déjà vu the scene of a dimly lit funeral parlour had filled his mind completely and in the casket seemingly floating on a bed of pure white silk his sweet-heart lay. Her beauty even in death took his breath away and the rigor mortis attempt of a smile the undertaker had imposed on her could not disguise her dying scream. Dreamlike he saw the second casket beside the first and in it he saw the third half of their love triangle, her husband, side by side in deaths embrace they lay and he knew he was not in this picture. All this he had seen in a matter of seconds like someone shining flash cards of instant recognition in front of him, but he could not and would not reveal this to her. It was better left buried in his sub-conscience.

            It took a while but he finally convinced her he was ok, and it was soon time to continue their “date”. They walked once more to the town square and parting she walked ahead as usual to the old movie theatre bought her ticket and entered. After a ten minute pause and checking to see if anyone was watching he too bought his ticket and entered the old relic of a movie theatre. It was built in the early years of the movie industry and sported the castle like interior so like that era including an upper loft or balcony usually reserved for lovers. In the half lights of the room he climbed the stairs and found her in the topmost row in the farthest corner…the hardest spot to be seen in the theatre. Groping his way in the darkness he found her and removing his long coat he sat draping it over them like a blanket and their lips joined in a kiss before the credits had stopped rolling and the movie began. Earlier images of death and funeral caskets fell by the way side as fingers opened buttons, pulled down zippers and flesh touched flesh, the lovers moans of passion drowned out by the soundtrack of the show.

            They never even saw the flashlight or the first flash of cordite from the gun barrel but the explosion in the enclosed area brought his fear crashing to the surface. Wet hot liquid scalded his face as she lay dying in his arms and he turned to see the second shot expecting it to be his. The gun though was pointing not at him but at his lover’s husband and it was then he recalled his dream and when the second blast rocked his senses he knew his premonition had come true . As the lights came up in the theatre and the cops swarmed the balcony he held tightly to his now dead lover and knew he would never love again.