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Order this writing in the collection book Layers of Creation available for only 1795 |
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This appears in a pre-2010 issue of Down in the Dirt magazine.
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A Change Meeting
Geoff Ralston
“Well, I see you’re living well.”
I didn’t even bother to look at her. My concentration was fixed on the blank wall across the room. Averting my gaze, a hackneyed self-defense tactic I had picked up when dealing with women. It was a bad habit. I lay cross-legged upon the bed, my head tilted back with a cigarette protruding from my lips. The cherry burned crimson and cut a hole into the blackness.
“What’s it to ya?”
She shifted her weight and sauntered over to the bedside. My eyes were drawn to motion and my focus shifted away from the wall and onto the shady woman who penetrated my world. Her silky, black dress hugged her hips tightly, and I could barely make out her slender features through the dark veil of the night.
Her hair, blacker than midnight in a snowless winter, hung down past her chest, flowing like an open vein despite the stillness of the room. The only source of color found in her visage was her lips; a gentle, yet misleading hint of mantling rose in an otherwise blighted existence. She continued to drift around slowly, lingering every so often to kick through piles of dirty clothes and shift the rummage that blanketed the carpet.
“You always were a slob, Jer.”
I took a long drag on my cigarette. The bitter sting of the tobacco cut into my lungs as I breathed sweet release. Rising from my position, I slowly exhaled as I stubbed out the butt in a silver ashtray on my bedstand. My gaze never tore from her face. Not because of how beautiful she was, oh no. I’d seen it. It’s not every day that something as perfect as her walks into your life.
I just didn’t trust her.
“I mean, God, this place looks like Hell.”
The clock on my nightstand read 11:48.
It was almost midnight. I was out of time. She had always been rudely concise and I hated her for it. But why did she come back now, so close to the end of my pathetic existence? What were the fates trying to tell me? I rose from the bed, slouching with deceit as I put on my jacket and grabbed my gloves. I had to get out of there.
“Most people never been to Hell, sweetheart.”
Finally, she turned to face me. Her response was cold and blunt, like the blade of an old knife.
“And you have?”
We were no more than three feet apart. I could feel her attempting to radiate intimidation from her features. It always sickened me; however, this was no occasion to be bludgeoned by a woman I hadn’t seen for almost two years. Who was she to think I would succumb to such gestures after all this time?
I guess physical presence can be a necessary element for fear, I thought as I smiled. The spell was broken. The lines were redrawn in my favor. I held all the high cards. I admit now, that at that moment, I had never felt so alive.
With a halcyon-like pose, I slipped past her and headed towards the door. But I wasn’t finished. There was no way she was going to have the last word. Turning abruptly, I stared into her bitter eyes. They were like ice.
“Well Alice, I was married to you...”
