Flash fiction 2

Reversal

Where she had gone or why she had gone, I simply had no idea. It was like the dark silhouettes, left on walls after an atomic explosion. She had become one of those. Neither a shadow or a stain, but a presence atomised, a stony absence.

Do I exaggerate? Perhaps. But it is like that when you try to love and it becomes, an explosion beyond comprehension. Then as much as you love, commit, sacrifice and toil, what is left is ashes, broken beams, the roof staved in and burns so deep and hot, they irradiate the night.

It was always in her eyes that potential. A magnificent beauty was there. It awed me. Warmed me. Scalded me. Like a sun to bright to look at. A light I could only squint towards.

I thought our lives might be easier, now the hard science of her father’s mind, the demands of his frail, failing body would no longer come between us.

We were making toast that morning. Surprising how two people can become one, in the simplest tasks. I was buttering, she was slipping in the next slices, sliding the handle down on the toaster with a decisive click. Sometimes there can be a dance in the most ordinary of movements. I thought we were in that state of love. Everything felt so smooth and easy. Like soft butter spreading on crisped bread.

It was the right moment. I took hold of both her shoulders and gently turned her towards me. We were face to face for the first time in a while. I told her, “Your father’s death, it was nobody’s fault. We all have our time and that was his. “

She looked at me then. A searing look of absolute incredulity.

I said again, “ I’m sorry”. How many times did I have to repeat that. Like one of those cuckoos that call and call all night through. So monotonous that the mind stops attending.

That was the crux of it. I had stopped attending. Run myself and our relationship on auto. A well oiled, smoothly running auto, with the handbrake off, and the engine revving towards reverse.

The expression on her face came as a surprise. At odds with her words.

She said. “Stop apologising. It was an accident. You never intended…”

Her words trailed off, like a broken thread. Her eyes flamed.

I am not ashamed, despite my apologies. I hated him.