Vignettes Part III

A breeze lightly whispered past her, a caress so gentle it made her feel as though all her fragile bones would break within her. All sweetness would fade eventually, leaving her weak in its wake, grasping for another taste. Happiness wasn’t something she could count on. Gritting her teeth, she grasped the dirt in her hands, letting it fall slowly through her fingertips. This wasn’t her first time around. All the things she loved would leave her.

Give me a chance, she thought. Just give me a chance. Looking up at the sky, she wondered what she’d done wrong.

Broken plans, broken dreams and a swiftly decaying spirit, he walked along the water’s edge, taking in all the beauty of the late spring afternoon. Why he could not just be satisfied with that simplicity alone was beyond him. Desire was his downfall.

A rough patch was something most people encountered. This sort of thing was expected. The traditional highs and lows of a lifetime were accepted, endured. Her experience had proven to be different. There had been no ‘highs’. Never did she soar with joy, never did her tears mark anything other than sorrow and occasional exasperation. But thinking of this, a flicker of a wry smile emerged on her stained lips. Life. What a bitch.

Coming to, his head roared with an ache so fierce he could feel the blood pulsing in his temples. He stood up dizzily, tripping over the noose still tied to his neck. He looked up. There was now a gaping hole in the ceiling. Of course. He sighed, found a nearby chair, and fumbled for a cigarette. Persistence really never was his thing.

Mid sentence, she watched his gaze travel predictably away from her eyes and it hit her that he wasn’t really listening. All they wanted to do was fuck, fuck, fuck her until her eyes bulged from her skull. They couldn’t see beyond her tits into her soul- she knew it- but somehow all of that was better than nothing.



When the sight of daylight makes you shudder, you have a legitimate problem. Of this he was well aware, though finding the root, let alone the cure for his affliction was entirely beyond him. Ask for help? The mere thought made his chest feel heavy. This was his burden. It was all he knew.

As she stared down at the kaleidescopic shards of newly shattered glass at her feet, hands still shaking with the thrill of destruction, she let out an exasperated laugh, realizing she’d be the only one to clean it all up.

He slumped into the velvety cushions and stared up at the ceiling, fluorescent lights flickering, as if searching there for a worthy explanation. “Give me a genuinely happy person,” he began, “and have them sit in a cold and barren room for a day-alone. They will emerge changed. Now have them imagine a lifetime of the same. That’s looking through my eyes.”
Furrowing his brow, the doctor’s robotic reply was, “I see”. He didn’t’.

He stood there, lanky and wavering like a reed in the wind as he watched her small form fade from sight, her perfume still lingering, a layer of sweetness shrouding his gloom. Breathing it in, he tried to comprehend how he’d pushed her away.

It was guttural, it was human, it was release. Taking a raspy breath, she tried it again, throwing her head back and giving into the raw energy of her emotions. Later that day, when the police knocked at her door to investigate the commotion, embarrassed, she concocted a lie.

He never understood people’s preoccupation with hugs; why the nurses felt the need to press their warm breasts against his feeble chest-as if that act would do anything other than remind him of the fact that he would never genuinely share that closeness with another human being.

Picking up where he left off would be the most rational thing to do in light of his most recent fiasco, but he couldn’t fathom a life of normalcy without the crutch of his vice. Bargaining with himself once again, he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the familiar pleasant burn of his addiction coursing through his veins.