Mourning hang


Life was over. She couldn’t stop crying. The romance was gone.

Her idle had died in the hospital. He was the great lover and romanticist Rudolph Valentino. Now she was devastated.

She hadn’t shown up for work in weeks. She just couldn’t dance anymore, not when the master of the tango had passed away. She couldn’t bring herself to do it like she used to.

Oh, she had her share of suitors. But none of them had lived up to her idol. She’d never even met the actor. But she was in love with him just the same.

She’d spent hours looking at his pictures. She’d collected every newspaper article with an image, every photo she could lay her hands on. It was all she lived for. And now he was gone.

The sheik was dead, the man every woman would have given herself to. She just couldn’t imagine a life without him projecting true romance on the screen. Now she wanted to end it all.

She spent days putting it off. But she only became more morose. There was no point delaying the inevitable.

She finally made up her mind she was going to do it. But how should she go about it? How did she want to go out?

There was only one way she could think of. She wanted to dance one last time for the sheik. She wanted to dance on air for the great lover.

She went into her bedroom and moved things around to make room. She found a brace up in her ceiling that would function nicely. Then she tracked down a thick rope and formed one end into a noose.

A part of her questioned what the hell she was doing. But she told herself there was no going back. She could not go on living without the symbol of true romance in the world.

She threw the noose up over the brace in her bedroom. Then she brought in a chair to stand upon. She measured the length of rope she would need to dangle from before tying off one end.

She paused as she thought about it. Did she just want to hang herself? Or was there more to it than that?

She decided she did not want to just hang. She wanted to dance one last time. She wanted to dance in memory of her lover.

She went into the living room and retrieved her two floor length mirrors. She’d used them so many times in the past, watching her every move to perfect her craft. Now she would use them to make sure her last dance was acceptable to honor the memory of the great sheik.

She set them up at angles so she could look into both of them. Then she adjusted the chair. Everything was perfect.

She went and retrieved all the pictures she had of Rudy Valentino. Then she sat on her bed and went through them one last time. It caused the tears to flow as she choked back a sob.

She spread them all around her bedroom. When she was done, not a bare inch of floor space remained. It was perfect.

She found a handkerchief and wiped the tears from her eyes. She wanted to look her best when she finally met her lover in the next life. Then she climbed onto the chair in her bare feet.

She looked at herself in the two mirrors. She examined every inch of her sensuous curves. Yes, she still had it. She would dance divinely for her lover.

She brought the noose down around her throat. She snugged it tight, making sure the knot was next to her left ear. Now she was ready.

She began to slowly gyrate on the chair, as much as the rope would allow. She waved grandly as she stretched her legs out one at a time. This was all for Rudy.

She watched herself in the mirrors as she moved with grace. She had limited mobility from the rope around her neck. But it was enough to put on a final performance.

She went through her repertoire, moving as much as she dared. A couple of times she almost lost her footing. “Not yet,” she told herself. “I’m not finished dancing for the great lover. I’m not finished dancing for Rudy.”

In her mind she was dancing for the one and only. She felt him take her into his arms. It made everything seem right with the world.

She looked into the left side mirror. This time she saw the great sheik himself. His arms were outstretched; he was calling to her.

“My love!” she cried out as she reached out toward him. He was still here! Romance had not yet died away.

As they reached for each other, her left foot slipped on the chair. She over-corrected with her right. That’s when she kicked it over behind her.

She only dropped a few inches before the rope took her full weight. Then she was airborne. But she could feel Rudy’s arms wrapped around her.

She kicked her legs as he lifted her up above him. Her heart soared with great joy. It felt like she was flying. Then it felt like she was strangling.

She began to kick and struggle. Her legs flew every which way. But the noose did not fully tighten just yet as she’d used a thick rope.

Rudy vanished from her mirror, replaced with the image of a naked woman hanging herself to death. She let out a raspy gurgle as she tried to reach toward where she’d seen him last. She kicked and gyrated as though she could entice him to return.

The more it hurt, the harder she danced. The more the rope strangled her, the more her legs flew. It was the dance of her life, her last dance for the great sheik.

It hurt so much that she reached up, struggling with the coil around her throat. In a moment of clarity she took her hand away. She was supposed to be dancing for Rudy, remember?

She saw him in the mirror again. This time he was naked. Was that an erection she saw?

Once more, he wrapped her up in his arms. Now she felt him inside her. She kicked and gyrated in growing, breathless agony as she felt excitement in her lady parts.

She could no longer get a breath down her throat. Her heart hammered in her heaving chest. She was aware of a strange pleasure between her legs…

It was Rudy. Her last dance had brought him to her. Her dance had brought him great joy.

She shuddered as she experienced a dying climax. Then she hung limp, too tired to dance anymore. She twitched and trembled as her eyelids fluttered.

Her tongue slowly protruded out of her mouth. Drool fell upon her full breasts, splattering her erect nipples. But she could no longer feel them.

For a moment, everything went dark all around her. Then it became light again. She was dancing a tango with her sheik.

He lifted her up into the air. Then he spun her away, causing her to lose her grip.

She reached out for him. But it became dark again. Then she was aware of nothing at all.

Her bladder released as she dangled quietly, gently swaying back and forth. There was a faint sound of the rope creaking. Thus, one more female had decided life was not with living without the great sheik… the great lover Rudolph Valentino…

2019 (written Dec 19 ’19 by riwa)

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