A Quick One Off The Wrists

[wulfboy.livejournal.com]

This is tangenitally inspired by a theme from nyarbaggytep (in the most vague way).



I remember hurling a rubber ball at the back of your head so hard it broke the sound barrier and then running into the woods (pursued) and being smacked around the head hard enough to make my ears ring and then going on with the dog-walking.

I remember stabbing something for spreading butter into the back of your calf while eating a family meal on the front-room carpet (chips and mayonnaise), and being thumped, and then eating chips without further comment.

I remember smacking my hand (open palmed) through the window and realising I hadn't been hurt, and the explosion in my chest and the pleasure, feeling no guilt just relief.

I remember stages; fear, denial, blame, anger, acceptance, like you were a terminal illness that I had no way of avoiding, and was doomed to pass on myself.

I remember craving hatred; sex was a disappointment (almost); I've never reacptured that high (try as I may)

I remember there being some other people around (there must have been, surely), but only as I remember tedious motion-pictures and school-trips.

I remember the way the world tilted and snapped when I found I was taller than you; bigger; that you didn't know everything; that I was getting laid more often and more thoroughly; that what I'd been afraid of for so long was true, and had been, and would be.

These days I get chest pains, and worry about money.