A Woman of Wonder

I see her from across the room, with dark hair and eyes that gleam and a strong figure.

She is beautiful, gorgeous, the stuff fantasies are made of, yet she isn’t who she is because of beauty. She’s strong. Built to last. An immortal figure of goodness and protection. I stare as she moves by me, elegantly tall; her dark eyes catch mine for a moment, a fleeting moment, and then she’s gone, forever out of my reach. I don’t want her for myself, I want to be her. Strong and capable, a harbinger of truth and justice. I will never be her, will never be like her. I am not made of whatever brought her into existence. I am not strong or good, I am not beautiful, I will not last. She is all I want, everything I can never be.

That is why I must take her life.