"I was sitting in Fausts'...."
"I knew this
girl, from the end of the bar. I watched, finger stirring drink in a slow
circle."
All stories must begin this way, make something up
or it won't work. No, no need to make something up. Just choose.
The mirror
was kept spotless. It wasn't my thing, to watch. While I stood there my eyes
wandered the circuit of the room.
On the counter next to the sink was her
jewelry box. A melancholy value was brought out by the faded wood.
I have
never been intentionally cruel, but lately I've been obsessed by the rhythmic
possibilities of her sobs.
I open the box. A ribbon, the cross from her
confirmation and a rock picked up while bewitched during a summer vacation.
Black and in the shape of an elongated egg.
The things we save.
I can't find the ashtray so use the dregs from last
nights toasts. Look. Where the night had started, potential and action marked
by a murky purple halo. Suspended above my now sainted ash.
Birds flee the
trees as the day dies. I now know it was that rock that tattled.
Informed
on me.
I look towards the bathroom. What could it say? That we were made of
the same stuff?
Better to just get rid of it and not take any chances.
I
didn't bother turning the light on, I wanted to take it by surprise. Caught
unaware there would be less noise.
I headed to Fausts'. Reaching into my
pocket I held the stone. There was a certain comfort to it's cool
smoothness.