Short Fictions, Thrills And Wonders

Untitled Part 14

We sit at the ends of the table eating that tasteless dinner that slowly spoils in our mouths, me and my wife. I shot a slight glance at her, to guess her temperament, but I spot nothing on that blank face of her's.

I remember than when we first met, when I was still in my twenties, we were complete strangers. No shared friends and whatnot back then. I was in a speed dating session, organized by some matchmaking company which had demanded a ridiculous amount of money for that 1 hour session in that mediocre restaurant where nothing on the menu costs more than $12. I had sat in one place, a small table in the corner, and was not particularly well met by many of the women which had sat opposite of me. That can be forgiven as I myself is not somebody that is particularly good-looking and my body was definitely less fit than many of the other participants of the events. My extremely expensive night was coming to an end, and I haven't found a single person which had expressed interest in me nor have I caught anyone that catches my eyes. Until I met her. She sat down next to me, fifteen minutes before the session ends, and gave me the prettiest smile a girl can ever give. She took my breath away. The following minutes were the longest fifteen minutes of my life. And I remember that just before she left, as we were waiting outside for a taxi together, she gave me her number, written in crimson lipstick on a piece of white tissue paper, and told me to call her.

I called. She picked up. And from there we went on to devote two years to dating and merrymaking and twelve to marriage.

But now as I look back I couldn't even recognize who is this woman who sits right across the table, mechanically chewing her salad.

Was it something I had done? She stopped talking to me a week ago, even avoiding me at instances. We still sleep in the same bed, but I begin to suspect that she only sleeps in the bed because it's large enough for both of us to not touch each other as we sleep. I think it's a disgust. An aversion of me, or even things that are vaguely related to me. She stopped washing and doing my laundry. She never bothers to clean my work desk like she did before. I think she's only cooking for me so that she doesn't appear to be completely distant. And even so she leaves my plates aside, waiting for me to pick up after myself.

She hates me. But why?

Just a month ago I was talking about having a child, before she shot me that cold stare of her's that always puts me silent and said a definitive..

"No."

"But why?"

My mind goes back to my words. But why? She's been the one pestering me for years now, but now that I propose it she rejects. What motivates this woman? Years of living with her and I thought I know her, but apparently not.

I remember her reply.

"No."

And she left the room.

I finish my meal, and bring the plates to the kitchen sink where I'll be washing them.

After that I wordlessly retreated to the room, where she is already fast asleep on the bed and I crawl in next to her, carefully trying not to disturb her.

As my eyelids grow heavy, I hear a phrase from the darkness, spoken by her tinkling voice.

"I'm not from around here."

And I feel asleep.

When I woke up tomorrow, she is gone. Gone completely, every trace of her wiped out of the house, from her pictures to her clothes to her keys to her favourite couch. All gone.

And I stood in that half-empty house.

.................................................................................................................................................................................

she stood behind door.

a light, angelic and beautiful, shines from the other side.

the door is opened and she steps into the light.

everything shines

everything burns

everything will past