A sharp crack echoed in the darkness, startling you awake. You ran into the yard, blanket wrapped around your waist.
‘What in the hell are you doing?' You yelled, as she stared at you, her eyes wild with moonlight. With a smile promising madness, she lowered the gun.
‘I just shot the moon.'
She shook her head again, but her unyielding stance started to tremble. Seeing this, he took her hands in his and gently caressed them.
‘Show me.' Under his ministrations, her fingers flexed and unclenched. And still she shook her head, her lips parting to speak a word but never forming the word to be spoken.
‘Show me.' With a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, she gave in. She slowly took off her mask.
And he wept.
‘How can you say that?' He touched her face with one cold hand.
‘I don't believe in you anymore.' She shivered and pulled away from him.
‘Aren't I as real as you?' He pulled her back and leaned down to kiss her.
‘No. I'm not real. I'm a figment of your imagination.' She pushed him away.
Not again, he thought as he stared at where she had stood one second before. He walked away cursing his overactive imagination.
Grabbing her wrists, he held her hands flat against his chest. She opened startled eyes.
'Shhh... hold still... I want to taste what you look like.' It was his turn now.
'Ah, but the peace times. The days when all's quiet on every front. Sweet surrendering.' He waved his napkin, a white flag of truce.
'But I can't help it, it's an addiction. I'm a prisoner of this war.' She licked the last of the wine from her lips and reached for him. Touched him.
'Man the torpedoes!'
‘You’re silly.’ She gasped as he let go of her to flip the potatoes. It wasn’t really true. He wasn’t silly at all but for her. But for her smile.
Under sway of that beautiful smile, he pretended to flip potatoes across the room.
‘Wait!’ He said. ‘Why do you always make the women strong, and the men weak? I don’t think I like this, no, not at all.’
I smiled at him rather serenely. Raised my eyebrows. Flashed him an inviting smile while tilting my head very slightly. I didn’t need to speak. He came to me. My little rat. My little child.
Billy grabbed what he thought was a can of water and threw it on the fence. The liquid hit the fence and splashed outwards, directly into my brother’s eyes. Gasoline. As the fence burned gaily on, my brother was carried home, screaming.
She listened to his steady breathing. She tried to make out his features, but the room was too dark.
‘And I really love that moment after sex, when you collapse on top of me and I can still feel you pulsing inside me.’ She snuggled further into the blanket and closed her eyes and drifted into sleep…
A car went by outside, the headlights revealing his smile.
‘Yeah. I can feel the magic.
Let me remember the good things for once. Give me a chance to remember you.
'Silly human. Never, ever trust a sleeping dragon.' She snorted. She really had to thank her sister for sending these tidbits to her. 'Or a woman who asks you to slay for love, for she's but a dragon in disguise.'
I push a newspaper across the table at her, the headlines screaming of a fatal fire.
'Media! Of course they're going to push death, it's what sells!' She sputters. I take her emaciated hand in mine. 'Yeah. I'm as good as dead, but I value what little I have left.'
Listen to the dying, they'll teach you a lot.
In some ways, I'm still hiding in small cramped spaces.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You think they’re inferior to you, don’t you?’ He jerked his head towards the other table. She looked at the couple, the man in his purple polyester shirt and his cheap toupee, the woman with her over bleached, teased hair and flashy gold plated jewelry.
‘I don’t…’ She started, but stopped when the woman’s braying laugh pierced the air. ‘Well, maybe I am a snob...’
‘I need some information about dicks.’
‘Upper or lower-level?’
Luckily, most programming can be undone.
Do you hate me? Have my words finally wounded you enough to push you to that point? You forgive me this time, but what about the next time?