She has exerted more effort and summoned more strength than
she knew she had in order to get to this point. She has decided to take a bath
and is now sitting on the toilet seat. It cold against her naked skin, and she
is staring into the mirror on the back of the door. Why are there so many
stupid, fucking mirrors in this house? She listens to the water fill the tub
and breathes in the steam. Heavy limbs
are lifted and moved to the water which is too hot and she is held in an embrace
that makes her drowsy. Maybe too quickly,
she is asleep.
The man continues his day and works. There are more
interactions with people, but he feels like the real him is hiding somewhere
under his skin. He is under this man that everyone sees. At some point he has given birth to a son
that wears him like a costume and goes through his day for him. He wonders how she is doing and thinks he
should call her, but he will not. This costume, this mask lacks empathy and he cannot reach
her, so he mourns alone while he carries on with his duties.
And here I am again, at the end of another moment, trying to
root out a happy ending for my imaginary family. I write by candlelight with my
netbook on my lap and the solution to their problem scurries beyond my reach.
Well, there is always next week.
Cool. I enjoy your writing.
ReplyDeleteHi Ally! Thanks for dropping in. I'm glad you liked it and I'm always happy to see you here. After reading your post, Hidden Readers, the other day, I started to think about how the writing blogs and fashion blogs I follow are more similar than not. Both types of blogs tend to have goals of developing creativity, sharing beauty, and supporting each other. What a cool world we live in (if you'll forgive the preposition.)
ReplyDeleteSo sad. I wonder why these two weren't together? Part 4? Maybe?!
ReplyDeleteI'm not really sure why he wasn't with her...I know that there is going to be a part four, so this is a good question to think about.
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