Things are different in the dark. Some shadows are just too deep for reality to penetrate, allowing perception to wander, create. It feels safe in the dark. Flaws can be erased, perfections fabricated, there is nothing that darkness cannot do.
The door opens, ravaging my sanctuary with soft electric light, but it does not reach me. I’m too far away.
"What are you doing?" her voice rings with hysteria.
"Wha?"
Her shadow reaches for the wall, pulling me back with a flick of her finger. I wince and squint at sudden reality.
She stares and shakes and I want to ask her what happened to her eye, so swollen and blackened, but the thought gets lost on the way to my mouth and runs down my arm; I empty my glass and reach for the nearly empty bottle at my feet, sending myself sliding to the floor, giggling.
"I’m leaving," she says, turns away.
"Whe’ come ba’?" stumbles from my mouth.
"I’m not coming back. I’m leaving. I’m leaving you," she says. "I can’t take it anymore, the drinking, the fighting, the..." she reaches for the bruised eye as it begins to tear. "Do you understand what I’m saying?"
"Sure," I say, filling my glass, trying to open my eyes. Why did she turn on the light? Why won’t she turn off the light?
She walks out of the room.
"LIGHT!" I scream, why does she torture me like this? Why won’t she turn off the light? "LIGHTS! LIGHTS!" She doesn’t come back. "AAGGGHHHHH!" I throw myself at the wa ll, punch at the lightswitch, kick at the door.
The lights go out, the door slams. Precious sanctuary. I slide slowly down the wall, close my eyes, picture her face, smile. After a moment I slowly crawl across the dark, pawing hopefully for my lost inspiration.
