O.L.S.M.i.a.G.a.t.C

Her hand shook as she held out the credit card. His fingers steadied the card and pulled. She had forgotten to let go. So much was on her mind, so much outside of the café on that March afternoon. She almost passed through her daily routines without thinking them through. Clockwork. He swiped the card, the machine stalling. She bit her lip hoping the money was there to pay and rubbed underneath her headscarf along the smooth surface of her skull. Yes, there was so much to do that time would not allow. She knew this yet no longer held aspirations; she no longer wanted to better her existence—walk further down the path. She was almost at a dead end—she didn’t want to walk to it. Her fate was what it was—nothing could change that. He smiled and handed her the bagel. Thank you.  

Not five minutes later, a pimply faced late teen with patches of red shrubbery growing from his chin was wiping crumbs from the table next to her. He looked over. Her eyes were like a Siamese cat’s—he had forgotten to let go. She smiled, causing him to reflect this faint and brief moment of elated happiness. He pulled the crumbs to the edge of the table, but was well shy of his cusped hand. Her eyes—so Husseyesque, so beautiful.  She looked down to the bagel and took a bite, trying to ignore his stare. What was he looking at? The scarf—she thought—he must be looking at my bald head. She wished she hadn’t taken a bite out of the bagel. Nothing tasted the same anymore. It all was stale—even the thought of eating it—each bite extracting a hint of metal. She wasn’t even hungry, but she knew she needed to eat. Her head ached and felt detached from her spine, floating on air—sure signs of her stomach’s need for substance. She kept chewing, but the bagel felt like a ball of paste—a wad of wet toilet paper against her dry gums.
 
He was walking over to her. Oh, god. What the hell did he want from her? She tried to swallow but it felt as though some invisible auto-making machine squeezed her throat with a steel grasp. She tried to push the food back up with the back of her tongue but it had already committed to the descent. She needed to chew. She needed to breathe. He sat down in front of her, grin cutting bashfully deep into his cheeks. Her eyes bulged and watered. He opened his mouth to speak, his eyebrows raised to show his sincerity. She reached to her throat and stood. His brow creased in with concern. She fell to the ground, head lunging forward, throat pushing outward.

She woke with him kneeling over her, his eyes watered over. The paramedics all backed away and he lifted her in his arms. He walked her to the entrance of the café, the doors held open by hands not visible to her. Gently lowered her to her feet he stroked his hand through her hair. Won’t you come with me? She nodded. Of course. Turning his back to her, she trailed behind slightly, pulling at his pinky. He turned his head, smiling. It’s all going to be alright. She trusted him now. She knew she was alright. It felt as though a weight was lifted off her chest, the pain in her breast had ceased. She did not have to fake the smile. He was there in front of her, and she was alive to feel his touch.

Where shall we go? She shrugged her shoulders. He took her to the lip of the bay so that her feet would sink in the sand as water pattered against her ankles. The sun was bursting over top the face of the sea. He turned his head and kissed her, before extending his arms. As he raised his head white feathered wings unfolded from his back and shed into the wind as he began flapping. The feathers fell into the ocean as he made his way to the sun. Show me the way…

She closed her eyes and fell backward into his arms. I thought you left me. He shook his head and ran his fingers along her chin. Never. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned him closer and kissed him. Why must I find you only when I’m leaving? He smiled. She frowned. She stood and pulled away. He stepped forward, placing his fingertips on her shoulder. His toes touched hers. He tilted her head up and they locked eyes. Where are we? His index finger pressed against her lips. He leaned forward.

When she opened her eyes he was not there. Nor was anyone else. She stood alone, in the void of space unknown to any living being. The blackest white of a shutdown mind—the absolute nothing that can only be found in death.

He hugged her, thrusting his forearms into her stomach, cracking her rib. Help, please help. Her swelling neck deflated. Her jutting eyes settled back into their sockets and lips relaxed from a quiver and head swung forward, saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. He held her in his arms, pulling her tightly against his chest. Don’t go. He bowed his head and began to sob against her back. Her hand grabbed his and began to squeeze. Her head rolled back and he looked into her satisfied eyes.

I have to.

--kpn--

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