Tachyphrenia

It was an ominous novelty of my calendar, which swelled my anticipation, upon this wistful night. Some ambiguous ambivalence had amputated my limbs from the providence of practice. It was in my fatigued slouch, that like a waltzing capsule, of premonition, pouring many iridescent visions from its desolate shard, I saw the spectre of my rendezvous. The visage of Lydia now rippled, like a stir in a pond and her benign smile, arrested me, like something of an opium trance. Slowly, her smile waned into disappointment, as she waited in vain, but alas, she receded with tears into a woodlot until, she toppled upon rock and met her fate. No, the nightmare was merely intrusive anxiety, it is not possible that my betrayal would cause this! I rested my eyes, and excused myself from this obligation, for my soul was weary and my mind laden. At length, I heard a thud on my threshold, rousing me from the arms of Morpheus, and attending to it, with heaving strides I unleashed the dystopian revelation to my eyes. It was a woman, Lydia I suppose with a bloodied face, and bleached white eyes. Her marble fingers encircled my neck, and with livid hostility I heard her shriek,

"You promised to come! You lying swine"