Short Story

Not Here

I pull my sleeves down, cover my hands. Play with the wool that has unraveled. The wool that you wore. Breath in. A hint of you. Though it has been through the wash again and again. Still it has a part of you. I wrap myself in this jumper. Too big. I echo within. Watch the rain stream down the window. Watch the drops fall from the sill.

White Noise

I should be sleeping. I turn the radio on. Listen to the songs, any songs to kill the silence that aches all night. To ease my restless mind. My broken heart. I close my eyes, clench my teeth. Focus on the noise. Breathe in and out. Heart races as the song ends, dreading the silence. The final punch…the last beat…to nothing…Still. I crack. Weakened. Next song. A little longer. I hope.

Unravel

Close to midnight my mind is busy, too busy. Tumbling and turning. Writhing around. A nest of thoughts tangled, tugging.

Time to pause.

I know I should pause.

But the tug is there. The mess is waiting. Pulling at my mind.

I can’t sleep. I still can’t sleep.

I go to the garden, sit on the swing. A chill catches me. I swing into the night. Reach for constellations, patterns I know well.

I swing, legs not touching the floor. Reaching for the stars. Searching for something. Not ready to land.

If I land. I fall. Trip up on my own thoughts. They wrap me up, pull me down. Too much. Tonight. I swing. In, out, up, down. I push myself harder, reach higher. Tears roll down my face. My fractured heart aches.

The stars fade. The sun breaks. Another tired day.

A bonfire for one

I sit, surrounded by things. Things you used to own. Photos of things we’d done. I gather them up, into a mountain of memories. Set them alight. Watch us burn. Alone. I watch the fires dance. Bright sparks reaching for the night sky. A tear in my eye. I look to the stars, watch the smoke weave it’s way to them. A chill in the air. I sip my mug of wine. Say goodbye. Watch the fires burn. The heat fade. The ashes sit grey.