Muerte Del Tramposo
Haze formed in left eye. Sticky, fuzzy, twitchy haze moved from corners to center as I clicked, dragged mouse; filtering, erasing, putting finishing touches on artwork. Eyelashes stuck together, saw them bunching through the haze, foggy black cobwebs. Blinked hard, looked at clock. Photoshopping three hours. Seemed like 20 minutes.
It was cold near the window, but there was the never ending hot lack of sleep in my face.
It was 4:45 on a Friday. You’d be home in an hour or so, depending on the traffic, depending on whether you stopped for drinks afterwards. 4:45 on a Friday. That meant dim sum from the Phoenix and shots of vodka.
The bed wasn’t made, and there was laundry strewn across the floor. It had to be done, but my ass was asleep on the chair.
It was 5:02 on a Friday when I moved my legs; they were like logs, stiff, heavy. I dragged them to the freezer and took a swig out of the bottle. It was 5:23 by the time I picked up the laundry. I had no energy to do the laundry; I shoved it in the closet and at 5:27, curled up in the red satin sheets. 5:30. Sharp. Twitch. I hated wearing socks in bed.
I took the day off work today, it was just too much effort getting dressed and out of the house. A week ago I was putting on my least comfortable underwear and my short skirt. High heels. Makeup.
A week ago I came home and I saw. I watched from the door crack and I saw.
You said she was just an associate.
I squeezed the pillow against my body like a lover and stroked it. Against the grain wasn’t nearly as soft. Entangled in my fingers, a long, blonde hair. Cheaply bleached, I guessed.
5:42. Haze was forming again, this time, both eyes clouded. Mascara ran down my cheek until there was a black line down the right side of my red face. Knuckles white and fingers red.
I smelled the dim sum coming up the stairs. Heavy, energetic footsteps. Freezer. Vodka. Chug. Teeth grinding, eyes squinted and throbbing I opened the door. I could see clearly, your light khaki casual suit, pressed just too much. The dumpling smell made me nauseous. The clock in the kitchen was five minutes fast, read 5:53. Teeth slipped on each other in an uncomfortable squeal.
You used a fork and knife to eat your dim sum. Metal on teeth. I had to get out of here.
“You can’t go on like this,” you said. It sounded hollow and awkward. “She’s not important to me. I just needed it.” I remember how you looked at her. Kissed her. So gently. Your lips like dew on rose petals, sliding so gently.
What do you mean, needed it?” I could not believe how cold and nasally my voice was. “Am I THAT unimportant to you?”
“You know I care about you, baby. Don’t get all self-deprecating on me.”
I took breaths through clenched teeth. 6:12 on the fast clock. Stomped on linoleum. Two more shots of vodka and the world has slowed itself. Eyes. Up, fluorescent lights flashed epileptically. Blinked away smoggy eyes. Throat, esophagus. Tightened, strained for a breath. Eyes darted, flash, shine.
I dropped my clothes to the linoleum. Nipples felt like mouthwash on tongue. Cold, tingly. He would look, and he would love it.
6:13. My fingers hugged the handle. Knuckles white again. The fluorescents flickered again. Your eyes followed my nude body and I could see you bulge in khaki. “I love you,” you said.
I whipped the blade across your neck.
In filmic realism I can see you. Like licking yogurt off a spoon, you kissed her. So softly. Warm moist liquid sacks, bright red, collide so softly. Like licking yogurt off a spoon.
Hand still but body shaking. I taste your scent in the air; musky, manly. Cologne wafts up the vents and into my nostrils. I see your body quiver, the redness ejaculates, spraying wildly from the hole in your neck.
Long blonde stick straight hair flowed over her breasts. Behind my eyelids her show keeps playing. Her pasty bare ass bounced up and down, like Jell-O, wetting your rod, sliding up and down. Her lip sucked outwards between yours, biting lightly; tongues licking yogurt again. You never kissed me so softly.
Penetration merits more penetration; steel drips with blood, tears. I was your last erection.
Little puddles have soaked into the carpet; red turns to brown. White and brown cow-like carpet starts to smell after a few days. In a few days I’ll be lying regretless on the beach, forgetting you. Hair crisp and scorching to the touch, sunburn turning to freckled tan. Guapo waiters serve cold piña coladas dripping condensation on bright pink coasters.
At 6:34 I pocketed the seven hundred dollars cash you had been hiding under the bed, and shoved your wallet into my handbag. In a few days I will be speaking Spanish in short shorts. Smoking pot from sterling silver bowls, drinking Coronas on the beach. In a few days I will be sexually harassed by Mexican locals, and loving it. Singing Ana Bárbara in Don Carlos’s Karaoke Espectacular. Sucking tourists tongues like grapes, caressing their skin, and licking their lips like they were crème brulee. In a few days the cow stains will be noticed, my apartment searched. Nothing a little bleach can’t handle. Anyone with half a brain won’t blame me.
In a few days there will be nothing they can do about it.
if anyone has any comments on this piece, please give them to me, as it is a work in progress... downvote me all you want, i'm not looking for points, but feedback and readings. btw, not a true story :-)