The Perfect Wife

Using the prompts: Mechanical as the first word
Horizon as the last word

Mechanical
described her every movement,
precise, methodical,
like a swiss clock.
He watched her from behind
heavily lidded eyes.
She turned toward him,
head tilted to one side.
A smile broadened her lips,
his pulse quickened.
He loved her steel blue eyes,
they entranced him.
She was warm and tender,
yet distant.

He always wanted a wife,
but was afraid of commitment.
From first moment he saw her
he knew
she would be his...forever.
He schemed and plotted
to possess her,
now she was his.
A pink taffeta dress
hugged her every curve,
its skirt swirled
and billowed with each movement.
He desired her touch,
craved her kisses.
She was perfection,
beautiful, loving,
faithful, obedient.
The house always tidy,
her cooking sublime.
He relished their quiet dinners,
free from pressures.
Her companionship was...his salvation.
They had the perfect life.


Suddenly,
after three years it was over,
his perfect wife...was gone.
Thunder rumbled in the distance,
a blinding flash,
followed by darkness.
The storm's intensity
rattled the windows.
A sudden surge of power ignited sparks.
The acrid smell of smoke
filled the air,
it frightened him.
Desperately,
he searched for her.
A cold chill overcame him
as he stared at her inert body
laying prostrate on the floor.

Now
alone he sits,
rewiring her circuits,
staring angrily
at the distant...horizon

.