Writing Challenge ~ May 2013

WRITING CHALLENGE ~ MAY 2013​

New month means a new challenge. Last month we had some awesome pieces submitted. Thanks to all who wrote and if you read any, please go and leave them a comment in the review thread for the April challenge!

This month's challenge is going to run for two weeks and this month we have one prompt!


You can involve the prompt itself in your piece and make your links to the prompt as obvious or as subtle as you like or use it simply as inspiration for something else. You can use part of the prompt, just one aspect of the phrase, or use it in its entirety.

The word limit for this month’s challenge is 2,500 words and your submission can take whatever form you desire – poetry or prose, complete story or a vignette. Erotic or not, serious or light hearted, it’s whatever you want it to be!!

It’s your writing, your challenge. You write whatever you’re inspired to write! Be it one piece or several!

Post only your submissions in this thread, constructive comments and reviews are to be posted in the appropriately named – Writing Challenge Review Thread

The deadline for this month’s challenge is Monday 20th May 2013, to allow readers time to get through everything before the next challenge starts!

Previous challenges and reviews can be found here.

Happy writing!

They say death is this magnificent light, this big, old, lit tunnel, where some important man waits for you to enter. They fucking lie. Sure, they say these things to make you feel better about your life, your world, but it’s a lie. Death is like a burning of a piece of paper. First it eats away at the edges, little memories; the most recent ones are gone in a flash. You don’t notice because those aren't the memories that you cling to.

The beep of the heart machine near my head is annoying and I wish they’d turn it off. The doctors all speak in hushed tones as if I’m not laying there in the bed near them. I can hear their self important shoes on the cheap linoleum floor, I can almost gag on the irony.

It’s her I’m waiting for.
I have to tell her something.

My mother sobs nearby, for her precious son. If I could talk, I’d tell her to stuff it and leave. The woman never did a thing for me in life, and as death burns ever closer, she’s using me to make herself look like a better woman. Oh well, soon enough, it won’t matter.

Her hands reaching for mine, our laughter as she swings herself through the branches. I am so proud of her in this moment.

My father stood over my broken body and cried gently. That hurt. I’d never heard him cry in life. I didn’t know he even liked me, keeping me at arm’s distance my whole life. As if to love me was something too much to bear. Even my mother is stunned into silence. A first.

A pat to my shoulder and he is gone. I don’t expect that he’ll be back, and that’s okay. My mother is receiving guests in my hospital room and the edges have burned down, my world hurts more, but I remember it less. Since I can’t tell anyone, it’s my little secret. My deadly secret. I think I’m funny.

I’m waiting. Hanging. For her, only for her.
I have to tell her something.

“Higher!” She shouts at me and all my strength is pushed into my arms as I throw her up into the sky, I fear for a moment that I’ll never catch her, that she’ll land on her head, but I do and she’s fine. I breathe again and we both laugh. She really only laughs with me, but that’s okay. That’s what I’m here for. To play games. To protect her. To make her laugh and to take care of her.

The nurse invades my room and my body again, though the only real thing I can feel is the burning of whatever they shoot up my arm, but the pain lessens and I feel like the fire consumes a little more of my life.

Why am I lingering?

I’m so tired.

For her. Just a little bit longer. I have to tell her…

Something.

Who am I telling again?

My jaw doesn't work. I can't talk.

Why is that woman sobbing? She sounds like my mom. Why would my mom be here? She never… we stopped talking years ago when she left us. Why does it hurt?

I’m waiting. I have to tell her something.

There she is, in the cradle. She’s so tiny and I’m so unsure of what I’m doing but my mother presses me forward with a smile and a nod and then leaves to smoke a cigarette. I look down into the little bassinette and reach forward, finding one tiny little hand with my own small hand and she, just curls her fingers around mine.

“I’m your big brother, and I love you.” I tell her. I think I told her this often. The fires took most of those memories away.

I’m waiting for her.

I have to tell her something.

Then there she is. I can tell it’s her from the way she holds my hand, fearlessly, strong, and possessively.

I have to tell her something.

I can’t move. My body is my cage. And death is so close. I can feel its edges creeping in. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but I’m not sure why I’m fighting it.

I have to tell her something.

A moment of panic envelops me. I can’t remember! The beeping next to my head grows more insistent and the room is silent all of a sudden. It’s like they know something, I don’t. Then she speaks, and says what I needed to, she knows, she’s always known. She said it for me.

“I’m your little sister and I love you.”

There it is. I feel so much better now. The burning ends and there is nothing.



I’m okay with that.

-----

In the grayest fogs we whisper secrets to ears that may not even know they've heard. In the moments just before the dawn we share our darkest desires with those who we've only just met. In the cracks between the sidewalk we spill our blood, our tears, our love. In the space between heartbeats we bare our souls to all, even those least deserving. In the span of an eye-blink we lose ourselves and gain much more. In these intricate separations, we intimate our beings, share our frayed edges and our cores. And for what? Companionship, compassion's lips, and catastrophe.

Solemn oaths to bind a heart to silver linings, confidential covenants meant to offer up just one thing. Sacred sacrifices made to deities long left to rot, private promises made though they all amount to naught.

In the overcast, the steely clouds, can you feel the thunder rumbling?

In my embrace, come closer dear, I need to tell you something.

I need to tell you something...

Light will always turn to darkness...

I need to tell you something...

that same darkness will erupt into light again...

Are you ready?


I need to tell you something..

Pleasure and pain can be one in the same..

One can evolve into the other...

One can overshadow the other...

One can calm the other...

One can bring on the other...

I need to tell you something...

Pleasure and pain are the same thing..

Are you ready?


I need to tell you something...

Love and hate....

2 sides of the same coin.. Much like pleasure and pain...

One can bring the other...

One can defeat the other...

One can become the other...

I need to tell you something...

They are the same emotion...

Are you ready??


I need to tell you something...

I miss you. I will always miss you. Miss you. Want you. Need you. Love you. Hate you. Pleasure you. Hurt you.

I need to tell you something..

Are you ready?

The lounge was dark. He liked the dark when talking to people, especially if the conversation was unpleasant.

Or going to be.

He’d left the message for her, short, one sentence and now they were here. He sat across from her, his eyes shining in the gloom, the few lights in the room dancing in them, not lights of joy.

“Why?” she asked softly. “Why?”

He looked directly at her in silence, a small lump rising in his throat. She deserved at least that. Face to face. He hated feeling like this. Exposed. Caring. He fucking hated it. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t change his mind. He never changed his mind.

Ever.

Not even for her.

“Work,” he said flatly, meeting her eyes without a blink. Her deep brown eyes, moist now, drawing him in, a safe place to drown.

Her eyes filled a little more with the beginnings of tears and it changed the reflection of the lights, making them no less beautiful, but sadder. Dark hair framed her face, then continued, falling to her shoulders. An angel, sitting across from him, a devil, only a small table between them, barely any space between their knees. He thought he could feel heat there, an energy between their bodies, but he was sure it was his imagination. There was no heat here, just the lukewarm radiance of dying embers.

“You promised,” she whispered.

He nodded, but he felt something rise within him….defiance, temper.

He quelled it.

Just.

“What did I promise?”

“Jobs, “ she said softly, trying to purse her lips to stop them quivering. “You promised there’d no more jobs.”

He leaned back into the hard chair, and drew a slow deep breath through his nose, the sound soft, but distinct. Almost a sigh, but it was harder than that and it was more than that. It was a flag.

A chequered flag.

The end.

He rolled his lower lip inwards and his teeth pulled on it.

“I did,” he said. “I won’t lie.”

“No, you won’t now, but you did before.”

His eyes narrowed a little.

“I owe them.”

She smiled softly, a sad smile, a resigned smile.

“What about me? What do you owe me?”

Finally, her eyes could no longer contain her pain and a single tear ran from each one, down her cheek, to her jaw, hanging there, hanging on.

Like her.

He shook his head very slightly, her pain making his chest tight.

He hated that fucking feeling.

He smiled, but it was only to hide the feeling.

That fucking feeling.

He needed to keep control, it was part of who he was. Right or wrong. It didn’t matter. He needed control, always. His was not the discourse of fairness, of sharing, of what was right. It was the discourse of him.

Only him.

Always him.

He pushed the chair back slowly and stood up. He looked at her and nodded, turning, and started to walk towards the door and out of the lounge.

He frowned and nearly stopped when he heard her call from behind him.

“What about me…..?

He kept walking, towards the door. Exit. The story of his life. Exit.

He hated that fucking feeling and he had to leave it behind.

It would go.

Eventually.

Exit.

Yes dear i know you`ll be late again, work really has you in a bind doesnt it ... yes yes shes in her room studying if you believe that ... ok well see you when you get back love you too sweet heart.

months now three days a week and hes late working on some project that will change the world.. still better find something for tea just the two of us girls nice and cosey or a take out .. hmmm maybe i should ask tracey what she wants tonight.. a treat.. yes ok

with my mind made up i climb the stairs. knowing tracey is with her long term best girl friend in her room studying was only permitted due to the girl she had with her catherine was a nice girl respectable family from just down the street and truly i was thankful that she was helping my daughter study . since she was in the picture tracey`s grades have improved and her manners too strange that a girl of 18 at college suddenly doing a....... holy shit what was that ..

The sound that startled me the crack of human flesh on flesh.. another then another then a strangled moan.. then words that made my blood run cold.. hurry bitch before that slut of a mother of yours comes in and catches you like this....

Of course a mothers first instinct takes over and i reach for the door handle but the words slut mother me? the door is open a crack and the sounds from inside moans shuffling and then that smack sound again what are they doing.. my heart beats like a trip hammer, as fingers grasp the door handle. and i peer through the gap .. In my eyes a sight so scary but for an instant so delicious... tracey is naked hands tied behind her back and a leather tie around her face.. turning a little more to find a better position, not wanting to disturb till i had all the facts, I see catherine fully dressed grasping the hair of my son a look of pure pleasure on his face, you know that shit eating "i`m getting everything and the cream too " look...

Catherine has her hand gripping his hair tight to hold him still i move position again about to break this party up when she speaks, and my blood runs to ice.. if that cock isnt in his ass in sixty seconds my lil slave i`ll have your mother accidentally find that video clip from last week end... remember the one with the bike club...? now whats it gonna be?

bike club they said it was a camping trip.. oh shit what has my babies got into?? I have to be the adult and sort this out... Stilling my nerves i opened the door just just as i see my daughter. kneeling naked bound with a huge dick glistening on her face..strapped to her mouth with the leather straps i saw earlier begin to enter my sons ass. the situation froze, like a cartoon, or a pause from a naughty dvd.... I think everyone held their breath... looks where exchanged all of us shared the same look fear, surprise, horror.. shock, call it what you will.

The silence was broken by the words from my son.... its not what it looks like.. boys can be so stupid.. sometimes its exactly what it looks like.....the problem is I dont know what it looks like I cant find anything to reference it or compare the sight too..I look round the room again trying to take i the fear in my daughters eyes the look on her friends face and finally my sons face all the blood drained out of him but no one moved ..

Have you ever noticed that phones ring at the wrong time? it actually broke my thought pattern all together and almost like a robot i pick up the house line and answer.. its my husband dear sweet saviour hero that he is he`ll know what to do .. Hes the level headed one..He`ll know what to do .... Honey I need to tell you something... I ...I want a divorce I choked confusion spun in my mind i had to tell i had to sort this out. my son that dildo my daughter her friend and what what was he saying? DIVORCE!!!! I turning i heard a noise on the stairwell ....saw Her saw her there in the light of the stairs window.

Her hair soft and red, it hung over her shoulders... a mirror copy of me just so young so beautiful, the red welts on her wrists from the teather where still there.. I hung the phone back on the hook, numbly twisted my head to see her walking towards me.. ... looked at Her as tears hot and stinging run down my cheeks. and i slid down the wall my back to it. Sobbing openly tears falling like rain from my face .. I look into her eyes those steely, blue ice bolt eyes and she says.. mom .. I need to tell you something else....

A Secret of Sorts

“Now, I need to tell you something, and I need you to let me get to the end before you say anything.” She settled her weight on his lap, forearms resting on his shoulders, a leg on either side of his body. “Okay?”

She waited. A waggle of dark eyebrows and a sparkle in dark eyes was the only response she was given.

“Well?” She pressed.
“You said I wasn’t to say anything until you gottotheendhey, that hurt!” He exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck where she’d pinched, a little less than playfully.
“That’s what you get for being a smart arse!” She snickered before leaning down to kiss the reddened spot softly. Lips pressed and lingered, soothing the sting. “Anyway, as I was about to say…”

She cleared her throat, bravado suddenly ebbing but she pushed on. She had to. This was important. This had to be said not matter how much she wanted to bury her face in his shoulder and save it for another time.
“I need to tell you something.” A moistening of suddenly dry lips and she pushed onwards.

“We’ve been together a while now and things, over time, change. It’s only natural.”
He stiffened slightly beneath her, anxiety was creeping in.
“Well, it is!” She insisted. Silently proud of how his mouth had remained closed. “Situations change and people change. One of those ‘Circle of Life’ kind of things.” They both chuckled but neither laughed. Not really.
They both knew she used humour as a defence, used deflection as protection. Bad jokes meant she was deflecting something big.

“I mean, we’ve both changed loads since we met!” She continued. “My hair’s longer, yours is shorter.” Fingers affectionately ruffled the crew cut style fuzz on the top of his head. When they’d met his hair had been down around his ears, a messy mass of dark waves and loose curls. He looked like he’d fallen out of an Austen novel. Now he looked like he’d fallen out of the army.

“Neither of us is exactly the person we were when we first met, or even the people we were when we got married.” She smiled, thinking back to a happy day. Cool but bright, clear blue skies and in the setting sun a first dance shared with knowing smiles between them both. The silver band on her left hand felt as right then as it had the moment he had pushed it down and along her finger.

“But I need you to know how much I love you. For the man you were, the man you are and the man you will be.” Her smiled softened and she kissed him gently. Losing herself and her point for a few long minutes.
“You had me from the moment I saw you and I’ve loved every single minute between then and now. Even the fights.” She laughed teasingly. “Because fights mean we care. Fights mean we’ve something worth fighting for. Fights mean knowing the other well enough to know our grumpily mumbled or accidentally hurtful comments weren’t really meant. Fights mean we get to make up…” Her own eyebrows rose, lips bowing into a knowing smile before they moved down to press against his. Kissing softly, sweetly. She pulled away and he sifted fingers through her hair.

“We are ok, aren’t-“ He began before she pressed a finger to his lips, shaking her head.
“Nothing. Not ‘til I’ve finished.” She reiterated before taking a deep breath and continuing.
“I’m stronger, because of you. Braver too. I know that with you beside me I can face anything, do anything. We’ve changed and things are changing around us, between us, and I know that whatever challenges might lie in our way, I’ll overcome them…because of you.”

His expression became concerned. ‘Challenges’ was a code word for ‘problems’. Problems were never good. She needed to get to the point.

“And so. I need to tell you something else, something really important. Something I’ve never told you before but that I need to. Now.” She smiled softly and leant closer, bringing her mouth to within an inch of his ear.

Taking a suddenly shaking breath she knew it was now or never. She was nearly at the end.

She whispered, ignoring the prickle in her throat and the sudden stinging behind her eyes.

“You’re going to make an awesome father.”

Carnal Desires

He could feel her heart hammering through her veins as he tongue swept over her lips. Could feel every breath she took and every shudder she made. It excited him to no end as he continued. He would bring her to bliss this evening, but he had more carnal desires and dark secrets. Looking up into her eyes he licked his lips before delving into her depths with his tongue. Her screams rang all around him and drove him mad as he continued his sensual torture along her body.

He could feel her close to her climax, could feel her need and he grinned into her body. Releasing her lips with his own he slid his body up against hers. ”Tonight I will take you… and you will be…. Mine.” He spoke directly to her mind, his voice deep and husky and filled with lust. As he continued he could feel her opening for him, her juices already coating him as he slid himself against her slit.

”Please I need to feel you.” She begged him and he could not help his devilish grin before slipping inside of her. He needed to tell her what he was, to tell her about the beast within him before this all became too intense. His body would grow and he would slightly shift when he met his bliss there was no denying that. His tongue slipped across his lips before his kissed her.

Pressing his tongue he explored her mouth at the same moment he entered her ramming himself deep within her tight little hole. He could feel her gripping him and dragging him in deeper. ”I need to tell you something.” He spoke to her once again inside of her mind not willing to break the contact between them. Not willing to give her the chance to flee from him when she discovered what he was.

He could feel her ecstasy slam into her as it rolled over him, he could feel the shift beginning, his body growing larger, as surely his eyes would begin to glow red. Looking down at her he gave her a wicked grin. He had warned her he was a carnal beast before they began before she allowed him to claim her. Now she was his though, now she wouldn’t be able to deny him.

………………………………………………….

I saw him shift I knew he was more than human but I hadn’t expected this. I could feel him grow within me before I saw him change. He was still a man, but larger than a normal man and with more animalistic qualities. I was stunned, shocked I knew he would know, he always did. Laying there I could only feel the pleasure though regardless of what he was I was his.

I have as many carnal desires as he does, and just because he is a beast doesn’t change a thing for me. Of course this is all astounding to me, this doesn’t feel real it never does though. As soon as the thought crossed my mind I woke with a start. Looking around at the room I was in I was in utter shock, there he was lying beside me in bed…. Though this isn’t my bed, it’s his.

Today was like any other day at my house. The weather was beautiful, warm with no clouds all through the bright blue sky. The weather was made for playing and having fun but inside of my mind, I felt cold and nervous inside of me. I could not help but to shake as I knew that today would be the day that could change my life forever. I lived with my parents all of my life. Now that I am 18, I am finally finding out what it is like to be an adult but I just don't feel all that free yet.

I have been hiding a secret deep inside of me all of my life. I knew that I was this way. No matter what my parents tried to do to change me, I just could not do what they wanted. I could not live my parents dream. I just could not marry the person that I loved, no matter if I was a minor or an adult. It really hurt me to know that the law would not allow me to just be myself and marry who I loved, but that is a subject for another part of my life.

Right now, I wanted to be free about something inside of me. I don't know how my parents will react to this and that petrifies me. I have been waiting for the right time to say it and I hope that today is the day. I have been rehearsing these words that I am going to say for the past month. Each time I rehearse these lines, I shake and shiver. The feelings are like pins and needles going throughout my body. I hope that things will be all right when I tell them at the picnic today.

We have done our family picnic every Sunday at the local park for as long as I can remember. It seemed to be the one place where we can totally be a family. I know that my Mother loves the green grasses and the trees nearby. Somehow, it seems to soothe her. My father? Well he's along for the ride it seems. I guess he feels more comfortable under the hood of a car than on a park lawn. For some reason though, it seems that they are happy together and for them to be married for so long, it is like a compromise. I just hope that they can be understanding about what I am about to tell them today.

We sit down at the picnic and I can tell that my parents notice my shaking and shivering. I can feel their eyes looking at me as I am eating my sandwich. They seemed to be worried about me, like I am thinking of something inside of me. It is true. I am thinking about something and it is tearing me apart. It is only a few seconds of them staring at me but those few seconds feel like excruciating hours. It is my Mother who finally asks the question to me that starts my admission.

"What's wrong, Angel?" My Mom asks me in her worried look.

I lower my head down to my chest. I can feel my lungs become heavy as I rehearse my lines inside of my mind one last time. Taking a very deep breath, I still keep my head down as I finally let out the words that will change our lives forever.

"Mom? Dad? I need to tell you something about me that I have been hiding from you all of my life." I could feel a tear of nervousness coming down my cheek as I raise my head up and look at my parents straight into their eyes, hoping for the best to come. My body is still shaking but I could start to feel relief as the two words to come would help me to show the world my true self on the inside and outside.

"I'm gay."

Just not worth it...

"What am I doing..."

The words are said under my breath, pointlessly said out loud because they're intended for no one but me. A deep breath is pulled in through my nostrils, bringing with it the beautiful and salty smell of ocean, and held in my lungs for a minute, bracing my nerves, readying my mind for what is to come.

Exhale through my mouth. People probably think I'm trying not to get sick out here.

Just a pier, and no one is looking at you anyway.

That one is kept inside, one of a million thoughts bouncing through my head as as I stop at the end, bend down for a moment, and then lean against the rough wood. Fingers slide between their opposite, hands clasped together, and I'd be shocked if I didn't end up with a splinter in one of my elbows.

My eyes are nearly green today, as if they knew and wanted to reflect the color of the water. They are, for the moment, stuck looking at the horizon. There is not much else out at this end, really. Water, and some boats, and more water, and then the sky. The ocean looks like it stretches off into space , like you could sail to the moon when it sank low enough. Doesn't sound like a terrible idea at the moment. I'd rather be there than here.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, gulls are floating past on gentle currents of wind, the smell of salt in the air is like coming back home, and right this moment I would rather be anywhere else. Thanksgiving dinner with a racist uncle and every black friend I have. Church. Running directly away from this pier, this beach, this ocean.

But no. I'm here. It's been put off long enough. And I know, somewhere inside me I know like I know my name, that I won't be able to rest until it's done. Always, in the back of my mind, a little whispered reminder. Too long, too long.

"You... have a granddaughter you never knew about."

The first words are hesitant, low, spoken almost as under my breath as the ones before them. I'm no longer talking to myself. My eyes are on the horizon, snagging occasionally on a gull and following it across my field of vision, but otherwise remaining unfocused. I don't sense anyone near me, and the crash of the waves masks some of the sound anyway, and so my voice grows a little stronger.

"The one you did know about, well both of them really, they're so cute. You would've had the most fun with them."

A deep, fresh breath is pulled in again. I can feel the coolness invade my lungs. It gives me strength, and absently I wonder if the salt can make it's way into your bloodstream like that. Probably not. Maybe a Google search later.

Focus.

"I, uh..."

Swallow, hard, forcing down water I rarely let rise. Certainly not in public. Absolutely not while talking to myself in public.

But I'm not talking to myself, am I? I'm talking to the small black box sitting now by my feet. Deceptively heavy, filled nearly completely. It will be, and I with it, far less so when I do let myself finally leave. I'm probably about to break some laws, but fuck them. There are some things worth getting a ticket for.

"There's also a grandson coming that you don't know about."

A smile hits my lips at the thought, and a tear I hadn't realized was floating in my eyes skims across it. Goddammit.

"But this one is mine. And he'll be named after you. And I.. I'm going to tell him so much about you. So much. Finishing trips, and being your little buddy, and I'll bring him here, I'll tell him you're here, and I'll tell him how much you would've loved him. Another little buddy for you."

I fight, every last inch of the way I fight, but the tears flow with the words, and I'm beyond caring who can hear me, or see me... there is no one else. Me, and the water, and my goodbye. My last goodbye.

"I miss you. Every day. Every time I think about him, I miss you more. I know that... that life does it's thing, and that you just have to take what it gives you. I know I got years with you where other people had nothing with their father, but it still wasn't enough. Sometimes I think, I realize, that I'm never going to see you again... ever. Those last things I said to you, they're it. I can't change it, I can't add or subtract to it, I can't just wait until I see you again. And it hurts, so much it hurts. And I don't care about those people that never got any time, I don't care about those people that had less, or had one that was terrible... because I had you. You were mine, and you're gone, and that's wrong. You were the best man I've ever known, and you're not here anymore, and sometimes I don't know how to begin to deal with that."

I realize that my forearm is wet, and the wood is wet, and I laugh ridiculously and clear my eyes with the heel of my hands. Fall silent. Take another deep breath, and then another. Push the tears back. No, fight them back. But they go back, and my eyes begin to dry. My voice is quieter, lost to anyone but me between the call of the sea birds and the roar of the coiling waves.

"I know I never met your father, and how he just seemed like a person that you all talked about to me. And I promise you, that won't happen. He'll know who you were. He'll know that I am who I am because of you, and he'll become the person he will because of you, too. I promise he'll know."

My thumb brushes away a tear that managed to sneak out, and then I bend at the knees and open the box. Nestled snugly inside is a thick, clear plastic bag. Contained inside the bag, giving the box nearly all of it's weight, filling the bag, are dense grey ashes.

I straighten, and for a moment I'm just looking at the bag. Somehow struck by the idea that this is all that's left of him. Wondering how a person can be reduced to the contents of a plastic bag, while still extending so far beyond anything tangible and real and...

Stalling. I'm stalling.

Carefully, god I can just see myself dropping it and disaster, horror, so so carefully, I set the bag on top of the marked wooden railing and open it. The idea had initially sounded ridiculous, almost awful, but now, standing here, my eyes no doubt red, there is no hesitation.

My fingers sink into the ashes, curl, take a handful and lift it out. I know it's in the ridges of my fingerprints, under my nails, in the lines of my palm, and I find myself strangely happy about this. My hand free of the bag, I extend my arm as far out as it will go and hold it there for a moment, just looking. There are no more words, nothing really that will be sufficient in this moment, and so instead I just stand, and hold, and look. And then my fingers open, and it is all carried away on the wind. Scattered in the water. Into the ocean he floats. Among the birds, he flies. Mingling with life and death, with sounds and smells and the world. Once walking on it, and now he joins it.

The bag is lifted, tipped to the side, and slowly it's contents join the first. Sand through the hourglass. He loved being on the ocean. Now he is part of it. It is fitting, more so than any other place in the world perhaps, and all too soon it is over. And then he's gone. Completely, really and truly, gone.

I stand for a few minutes with the bag extended over the water, looking down into it as if there is any hope I will see any bit of him swirling past, making his way to or from shore. A fool's errand. Nothing to see but foam, and seawater. But he's in there. He's here, now, in this spot. Maybe in all spots where there is ocean.

I have no idea how long it is I'm looking at the water, but eventually I stop. Minutes, hours? Who knows? Who cares?

The bag is returned to the box. A little grey smudge is left on the outside, and I realize then it's from my hand. Dusty. Him. And now he's gone from in this box, to on it. Still crouching, I look up at the railing where my hand had rested. And he's there too.

The box is lifted into my hands, and I straighten. One last look at the water. A last breath of salt air.

"I love you, dad. I'll come back to see you soon. I'll bring him with me. We'll stand and look at the water. We'll talk about you. Think up some bad jokes while I'm gone, okay?"

And then I turn, and slowly walk away. Back to my car. Back to my day. At some point I realize my hands are clean. I washed them, probably multiple times. But until then, I know I've left him in the earth. A trail leading back to where he waits. Next time, I'll have someone to follow it with me. Stories of laughter to be told as we follow it to the end. Hand in hand, making our way back to his grandfather.

I need to tell you. I need to tell you something. And not just a little something but a somewhat rather large something. A rather catastrophic something that could change the lives of yours and mine. I need to tell you. I need to tell you that which you unfortunately already know. But I still need to tell you. I need to tell it to you right and true in words that are my own. I need the courage and the strength to tell you and I need to do it without you holding my hand because I need to do it alone.

It's unfortunate that you already know what it is I need to tell you. That only just makes it harder. It makes it harder for me because I want to get it right. It makes it harder for you because you don't wish to see my struggle with it and fight with it you'll just want to tell me everything is fine. But it's not. Because I still haven't told you. I never did tell you. I never told you because I never had to because you already knew. But that doesn't change the fact that I've never once told you or made the effort.

It's unfortunate that it took us this long and this hard. That we'd resigned ourselves to the lives that we'd found ourselves in, the lives we lead ourselves to. You are and always have been my greatest of lovers and my dearest of friends. But it's still so unfortunate that I haven't told you. It's unfortunate that it took what it did to get us where we are. It seems like such a short time ago it all happened, that one catastrophic thing that brought us so close and yet took us so far.

It's unfortunate that it was fear above all. It was fear above all that we needed to literally without warning shake the ground on which we thought we stood so tall. I should probably tell you that it shook my faith my hope and my heart and it shook me to the core. I know that you know all at least you say there's nothing that you do not know, but this I've kept so quiet and so secret I'm not sure whether you actually know or if you don't. I don't know if you saw it in my eyes, the fear and the longing and the heartache and the pain. The joy and the relief and the gratitude tempered with the realization that things between us will never again be the same.

And so I must tell you. I'm glad that you knew. I'm glad that you knew and I'm glad that you asked because in that moment with where we were and where we were going there was nothing else for you to do. I must tell you how grateful I am that you knew without knowing and without me having said a word as you always do. You make it so easy for me even in the times of confusion and when I am or you are or we are together in flux.

Of all these things are things I need and should and must and have to tell you. Things you already know but must hear them anyway if only but once to make sure I know how to get it right. You must hear them anyway if only but once so that I know I made the effort and I can take comfort in knowing without a doubt that you know because I told you so. There will come a day, a time that is nearing where I will have the chance to do what it is that I fear. There will come this day, my opportunity to stand in front of you and tell you these things I need to. To stand with my heart in your hand refusing to move.

To tell you once and for all, that I love you.

I need to tell you something.

“I need to tell you something…”

“Mmmhmm….” Chris mumbled in response, his eyes unmoved from his tablet.

“Did you hear me? I need to tell you something…” She spoke again, this time just a touch louder.

He nodded absently, fingers tapping against the screen as he typed out the email to his assistant. “I’m listening.”

He heard the small clink of metal to glass as she set her silverware down, his own plate and silverware sitting before him, the food untouched. He barely even knew what was on the plate.

“Look at me, Chris.” She insisted.

“One second, Lacey, I need to finish this email.” He responded calmly.

The side of her hand hit the fine china hard, the force of her swing sending it sliding off the table toward the ground. It hit a few feet from the table with a loud crash, food spilling against the hardwood. He jumped in surprise as the crash sounded, fingers become loose as the phone slipped and dropped into his lap. His eyes moved to her, his wife with her strawberry blonde hair and piercing green eyes, in shock. There was hatred in her eyes, there was fire. He was speechless as he stared, stunned. Lacey was normally shy and reserved. She hardly ever raised her voice in anger; she hardly ever acted in violence. This wasn’t like his wife at all.

“I said I have something to say. I need to tell you something…” she shouted, surely the neighbors heard her words, “and you’re going to listen. I’m tired of being ignored, god damn it—“

“I’m listening—“

“Don’t fucking speak! Just listen.” She shouted again, cutting him off. She paused for only a moment, her hands finding each other in her lap, a small huff escaping her lips as she seemed to calm slightly. “I’m tired of this, Chris. I’m tired.”

He frowned, his lips opening to speak, only closing as her hand shot up in a silent warning. The look on her face, the anger, advising him to be wise and obey.

“Six years… we’ve been married for six years now and things were fine. We went through our rough patches when you were in college. We had our fights when you told me that you didn’t want me to work. We made shit work, Chris. But, I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

Chris didn’t know how to respond. His brow perking slightly as his lips moved again, his eyes searching for a sign to tell him to shut up again, but nothing. Was it his turn to speak? She didn’t say anything else; she just sat, fuming, with her hands in her lap. He cleared his throat, adjusting slightly in his seat as he placed his elbow on the table and his chin on his closed fist. “I---“ he opened his mouth, eyes falling toward the table as he debated what to say. “I don’t even know what to say, Lacey.”

“Of course you don’t.”

His eyes snapped back to her. “What do you expect me to say? Here I was thinking everything was fine until you started smashing plates.”

She scoffed. “Oh, please. You can’t tell me that. If everything was so fucking fine, then why is it you need to go to your assistant for sex when you have a wife in your bed?”

His heart sank, air fleeing his lungs as he stared, once again, in shock. How in the hell did she know about that? How long has she know about that? He shook his head, shaking the guilty look off of his face as he shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her body was out of the seat as her hand swept across the table again, this time her fingers catching the glass tumbler filled with water. Just like the plate the tumbler slid off the table, crashing onto the floor, the liquid splashing out. It made him jump again, his body involuntarily reacting in fear as he pushed himself back into the chair.

“Bullshit!” she screamed, bracing herself against the table. “Don’t fucking lie to me. I know about it, Chris!”

“I— Lacey, I’m not cheating—“

He saw her pulling herself onto the table. He saw her knees hit the table, the plate of rolls breaking under her weight. He saw her inching toward him as time seemed to slow. He saw fire in her eyes. One hand against the table pushing her forward, the other rising about her head. A small glint, something he didn’t care to check what it was, his own arm coming up to block. But as her body hit his, he wasn’t ready for it. As the force of her body came down against him, he was sent tumbling backwards. The chair tipping and gravity doing what it does best, pulling them toward the ground. The chair hitting the ground with a loud bang, his back hitting the chair.

Of all the things he saw coming, there was one important thing he didn’t. Only as her arm came down did he notice the reflection of light off of steel. Only as her hand moved toward his chest did he notice the knife.

His wife was about to stab him.

The fall was far too perfect to be planned. Lacey didn’t expect the chair tipping backwards but she surely treasured it. It was absolutely wonderful. Fucking perfect. It was unexpected and it made him momentarily lost. A moment was all she need, her eyes still set on the center of his chest, her fingers tight around the handle of the knife.

She didn’t know why she was doing this. She didn’t know why she had picked up the knife. But, it was there, in her hand and everything was in motion. She just wanted to talk, but he didn’t want to listen. So here she was… falling on top of him, the knife in her hand. It was like a dam broke in her mind and her thoughts were just filled with causing him pain. She had no control over stopping it.

Her arm came down quickly, the knife with it, toward his chest. All of her strength put into one swift blow as she pushed it hard into his chest, a small gasp escaping his lips as it struck. The surprised look gone, replaced by fear. She wanted to laugh. She could do that later. More weight bore down, her body still falling forward until the handle of the knife hit her shoulder. It only helped. The knife slide in like butter, impaling itself into flesh and muscle, possibly breaking bone, she didn’t know. She didn’t care as she quickly threw her body back, jerking the knife free to let it fall again, her eyes aimed at the same spot; aimed at the red that was beginning to soak its way through his shirt. It struck again causing another small gasp as his body jerked, his arms flailing to push her away. He didn’t have the power for it now. He was done playing her. She just smirked.

One, two, three… he’s out.

He should have been, at least. She didn’t have the strength to stab him again, not after the third strike. Her arm aching as it fell it her side, her fingers tingling, her chest heaving heavily. She wanted to stab him again. The second feeling so much better than the first, the third so much more so than the second. She tried to imagine the fourth. She didn’t want to stop. But she couldn’t go on.

She hadn’t realized he stopped kicking and moving, perhaps it was some time after she dropped the knife on the hardwood floor. Adrenaline rushing through her veins as she slid off of him. Her side finding the floor next to the knife, the feeling of warm liquid against her hand as she let it rest on his chest. She wanted to play in it, but that would have been strange. Still, she couldn’t stop as her fingers moved up slowly, seeking more blood. He was still breathing. Barely, but still breathing. Wheezing was more of what it was. Maybe she punctured a lung.

“You should have just listened, Chris. All you had to do was listen and tell the truth.” She whispered, her index finger tracing idling through the stream of warm, fresh, red liquid. God he was bleeding profoundly, cleaning this up would not be a fun job. It didn’t matter, she thought, sitting up slowly to stare at her handy work. The sight of his blood on her hand, drenched on his shirt, it was beautiful. But he was still breathing. She let out a small sigh. “I just wanted to tell you that I wanted a divorce.”

The bloody hand moved up his chest, curling slightly around his chin as she turned his face toward hers. He’s lips moving slowly, as if he was trying to speak, but only small gurgles came out. It made her lips move as they turned up into a smile. He couldn’t speak, which meant he couldn’t lie. She watched him carefully. Blood seeping from his mouth, she couldn’t stop herself from pressing her lips lightly to his. And then he was gone and she was left staring into his glazed over eyes.

She had just killed her husband.

It felt like a long time. But it wasn’t. She stayed motionless beside him, watching his eyes, waiting to see if he would move. It felt like hours. Then she pushed herself away, placing her feet below her as she stood. His phone was still in his lap so she grabbed it, unlocking the screen before pushing three simple buttons, the blood from her fingers smearing on the screen, then she clicked send.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“My husband has been stabbed. 1339 West Grove Road.”

“Alright, I am dispatching emergency services now. Ma’am, can you tell me if your husband is breathing?”

Lacey lips turned up into a smile as she glanced down at the blood on her hands, then to his body. “He’s not breathing anymore, I made sure of it.”