The Man In White (part 3)
A fire lit room shadowed by the gathering dark serves itself up as the meeting point between two estranged lovers, known to their peers as the Lincolns.
A tall well-set-up man in his mid-forties, dressed in a white three-piece suit, turns from warming his hands held out before the walk-in fireplace to face his counterpart in black. Mrs. Lincoln, easily a decade younger, and dressed in a cocktail dress, sits back fearfully from the tortured countenance now facing her.
Mr. Lincoln aggregates the darkness about him, as leaning in, he reigns in the emotions that previously twisted him so, saying:
“You will have this child or so help me God I’ll see you fall far from the perch with which you sit.”
The hiss and crackle of the flames seem agitated by the pair before them, serving up a startling explosion of sparks from the popping wood, punctuating his statement and startling Mrs. Lincoln further.
Turning from the subsiding sparks, shivering from cold now inside her, she gazes out the handmade glass windows, searching for her freedom.
