That night she treated him to dinner. It was his birthday. She was annoyed with him despite her best efforts at proper observance. He tried humor once or twice but to no effect. She wanted him to be lighter than he was, wanted him to be other than he was. He would have liked to be that way too. He struggled to not get any heavier.
There was a full moon shining that night, a Blue Moon - hazy yellow -which refused to let him sleep until nearly dawn. It forced him to survey the space between them. He couldn't calculate an exact measure, but the gap was vast, and the feeling of great distance caused him pain. Just days ago there had been none. He felt so close. Now, he could not feel her at all.
He waited all night for the feeling to shift, but it didn't.
He wanted to dress and leave. He didn't want to dress and leave. He wanted to tell her he could feel the death of it, the sudden absence of life where it had been so vivid before. He didn't want to say it aloud for fear of suggesting it into reality. He tried to resist the full formation of the thought for the same reason. He only wanted to find his way back to her, to keep it breathing.
In her sleep, she moved toward him. Her foot came into contact with his leg.
He held his breath and waited for the relief that would come with the catalyst that would turn the whole thing around and get them back to where they should be. From there it would become a funny story about how you can really twist things up in your head. Don't trip, she'd say. They'd laugh, he'd pull her in close, she'd tell him he's a little bit crazy, and they'd be okay.
As soon as her foot came into contact with him, she drew it back. In a few minutes, the alarm on his phone will sound and a different day will begin still in darkness.
There was a full moon shining that night, a Blue Moon - hazy yellow -which refused to let him sleep until nearly dawn. It forced him to survey the space between them. He couldn't calculate an exact measure, but the gap was vast, and the feeling of great distance caused him pain. Just days ago there had been none. He felt so close. Now, he could not feel her at all.
He waited all night for the feeling to shift, but it didn't.
He wanted to dress and leave. He didn't want to dress and leave. He wanted to tell her he could feel the death of it, the sudden absence of life where it had been so vivid before. He didn't want to say it aloud for fear of suggesting it into reality. He tried to resist the full formation of the thought for the same reason. He only wanted to find his way back to her, to keep it breathing.
In her sleep, she moved toward him. Her foot came into contact with his leg.
He held his breath and waited for the relief that would come with the catalyst that would turn the whole thing around and get them back to where they should be. From there it would become a funny story about how you can really twist things up in your head. Don't trip, she'd say. They'd laugh, he'd pull her in close, she'd tell him he's a little bit crazy, and they'd be okay.
As soon as her foot came into contact with him, she drew it back. In a few minutes, the alarm on his phone will sound and a different day will begin still in darkness.
good writing!
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading, Mike.
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