from the Heart
of Life Thoughts and Healing Words
Brenda "Rion" Sewell
Life Not Treasured
She sat on a velvet chair along
floor wall; her restless fingers folding and unfolding on her lap. Her
hands fluttered like two small birds dancing among the folds of her
of aged silk. Her eyes, blue as a Baltic sea, sparkled with light as
watched the dancers on the floor swirling and twirling like butterflies
in a summer meadow.
Long ago she had danced away a
night such as
this. She had then sat on a marble balcony and watched the sun greet
dawn as it rose above the azure mountains. She longed for those times
innocence when she knew not of the treacherous hearts hidden behind
of velvet. Closing her eyes to the spectacle before her, her lashes
against her cheek as a single tear slowly made its way down her cheek.
Lies and deceit had ruled her
life after she
had married for what she thought was true and heartfelt love. The rough
beauty of his young face had told nothing of the treachery hiding
He had courted her hand and
swept her off her
feet with promises of romance and trips to far away lands. Now, she
to be able to travel backwards to a time of honesty and innocence, to a
life free of quiet hurts and whispered threats.
The music of the ballroom
the air as bright laughter floated across the expanse of the hall. The
polished marble of the floor held the coolness of the air that entered
through doors opened to the night.
She opened her eyes upon the
scene of swirling,
chaotic colors to see her husband holding the waist of a young woman as
they danced; their heads close together, the young woman’s laughter
across the room. As he whispered into her ear, his hand traveled down
He danced with the assurance of
one whose life
was not governed by rules. As they passed by his wife’s chair, he
defiantly in her direction and tightened his grip on his youthful
He openly flaunted his new conquest before her, daring her to confront
him and make a scene, knowing she would never create a scene in public.
Assured of his place in
society, he played
with her money. He wanted for nothing; her money allowed him to every
known to man . His days consisted of riding expensive horses and
in town in his club, partying every night while his wife stayed at home.
He had laughed openly to his
friends as he
told them about all the money his wife had spent on him. What he did
realize was his wife had had enough. Tonight she began to plan her
from this cruel and heartless existence called a marriage.
According to the details of the
her money, she was to have full access to the account when she married;
but laws being what they were, the husband controlled a wife’s
Even though the money was hers
and had been
given to her by her family, her husband had complete control of her
Her husband was living under the mistaken belief he had complete
of the finances.
He loved living in luxury and
his tastes were
as expensive as his treatment of his wife was cruel and insensitive.
had played into his hands and he smiled every time he handed over his
when he gambled, knowing his wife was paying for his losses. His debts
had risen quickly in the last few months as he drank excessively and
more and more.
One bright morning found him
after a night on the town. He had lost yet another horse while playing
cards. He knew there were other beauties in the stable as he had
the best of the equine world, but he was still in a foul mood as it was
his favorite gelding.
The brass knocker announced his
he slammed the large oak front door to the house. Striding defiantly
the hall, he threw his cape and hat onto the floor and called out for
As was his custom, he walked
into the book-lined
library and poured himself a large glass of red wine. The velvet liquor
slid down his throat and was just what he needed to end his day.
a second glass, he relished the wonderful smoothness of the wine.
Crystal glass in hand, he
walked back out into
the grand entrance hall. The wide staircase was carpeted in a dark blue
and led to the bedchambers upstairs. He stood for a moment before he
how quiet the house had become.
Usually bustling with servants
dusting early in the morning, the house seemed eerily empty. Calling
again, he waited for an answer.
Anger began to build in his
mind as he walked
toward the kitchens in search of someone to discipline. There was no
to be seen, not even the head cook could be found and the fire in the
stove was low.
This was not the hectic kitchen
of a busy household
just beginning the day. Frowning, he threw the crystal glass and
of the remaining blood red wine sprinkled the floor.
As he came into the foyer, the
great oak door
opened once more. His wife stood in the doorway, the sun outlining her
slight figure. In one delicate hand she carried a small crystal glass,
in her other she carried a single rose.
Striding up to her, he demanded
where she had
been and where were the servants, he wanted his breakfast and he wanted
She smiled softly. Her eyes red
tears, she ignored him as she walked into the library. She placed the
into a golden vase on the side table by the couch.
Pouring herself another glass
of white wine,
she turned and offered him some of the elixir. She sipped it slowly as
she walked quietly back to his side.
“No thank you, you know I don’t
weak, watery swill. You know I only drink the red.”
“This is a very fine wine”, she
told him. “Smooth
and fruity, it gently slides down your throat without any effort at
He watched as her sheer skirt
her body as she walked. Thundering again, he demanded to know where
the servants. Smiling, she sat on the edge of the large leather sofa.
looked like a doll with her porcelain skin and blond curls.
“There will be no need for
or any other day for that matter”, she told him. “Are you sure you
want some wine?” she asked as she slowly sipped from the dainty glass
Feeling the exhaustion of one
who has drank
too much and slept too little, he was beginning to get annoyed at her
her insipid conversation. If it weren’t for her money, he would never
become involved with her.
“I have already had two glasses
of wine. I
don’t want anymore wine; I want my breakfast and my bed.” His voice
in the room.
“You won’t need breakfast, you
wont have time
for it.” She walked to the window and drawing back the heavy drapes,
allowed the sun to enter the shadowy room. Dust motes floated in the
of sunlight as if a fairy had flown by and dusted the room.
Walking around the room, she
trailed her fingers
along the spines of the books. “You know, I have learned so much from
books. They have been my comfort and my companions for months. While
have partied and stayed in town, I have read and learned so much.”
She picked up a leather bound
volume from one
of the shelves and holding it out to him, she said, “This is my
His eyes widened as he read the
title and his
knees weakened causing him to sit down abruptly on the leather couch.
he dropped the book to the floor, the pages seemed to flutter in slow
before landing on its spine. The book fell open to a much-read section
of the book.
His throat tightened as the
and Their Properties” soared from the page and his breath caught in his
throat. Turning wildly towards his wife, the reality of his fate
him to his knees.
Pouring from the decanter on
the liquor cart,
she softly said, “Have another glass of wine, my dear.” Her voice
far, far away.
January 2002 Brenda
literary works and original
artwork by Rion on this page,
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© 1998 -
2004 Brenda "Rion" Sewell
me at brendarion at cfl.rr.com
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