Soemtimes i get these things running through my mind and and I can’t get them to go away. My head spins all night with words or thoughts. You’d think by now that I would know enough to get up and write things down, get them out of my head. So here is last night’s gremlin, a one-page mystery story.
I really don’t understand what happenened just now or even exactly why. It just did,. Probably I should have known better, should have said no when he called and said he wanted to come over and talk, just talk. We sat here at the kitchen table, facing one another in uncomfortable silence, the past an univited and unwelcome intruder occupying the chair between us. The tension was ridiculous; we have known each other since we were in diapers. Our parents keep reminding us how cute we were learning to crawl together, helping each other take our first steps. Later, we were still cute, according to our parents, as we started school together, learned to ride our bikes together. You know the kinds of kids we were, the kind who were always together, never doing anything on their own. Cute. Maybe, to our parents. We grew up. We were inseparable, like it or not. But no matter what we did, we were cute to everyone who saw us. Even our teachers began to say how cute we were. But they didn’t see it all. No-one did. Evil lived behind his empty smile, but no-one saw that either
We’re not kids anymore. Far from it. And I don’t think we’re cute anymore either. All he wanted to do was talk, he said. And he must have said something, but I don’t remember what. It’s all a blur. Except that the past and that ever-present smell of corruption that seemed to be a part of him left the room, slithering out under the door, leaving dead space behind them. And now I sit here, across the table from him, his eyes and his smile emptier than usual. I stare at the knife in my hand, watching the blood drip off the end,
Drip. Drip. Drip.