Inhospitable Place
Chapter Seven
Every beautiful thing has an expiration date. Today is yours.
If you knew today was your last day, would you have done anything differently? Would you have quit your job and went paddle boarding in Wethersfield Cove? Would you have forgot about your diet and had that donut in the morning? Would you have picked up the phone to call that one personÑyou know which oneÑand told them how much you loved them? How they were the only one for you, and would always be the only one? WellÉ would you?
But you don't know that today is your last day. There is no way for you to know. Unless you have some crazy type of intuition. Maybe on a cellular level, you sense the upcoming danger. But you sure don't look like you know. Grooving your head slowly to the music coming in your ears by way of your earbuds. To you it's just another day, and you're just trying to make it home. Cook dinner. Fight with your roommate. Lock yourself in your room, watch "Schitt's Creek" on your laptop. Reply to that guy from Grindr. Think about hooking up, but decide against it. You have to get up early tomorrow anyway. Plus, the last hookup left you feeling kind of dirty and unloved. You're looking for a connection now, something lasting. You decide to hold out on the guy, see if he sticks around. That will tell you everything you need to know.
I miss my stop today. I will ride it out till we get to yours.
You remember me from the last time. Every few moments you briefly glance up from your book, and every time I'm here to meet your eyes and make you blush.
That's the nice thing about the body I've been placed in, nobody considers it creepy when I look at them for too long. They enjoy it. Like it. Appreciate it even. Feel flattered by the attention.
The way the red blush spreads over your cheeks as you look up at me again gives me the most beautiful violent fantasies. I think it's an act of mercy to kill a beautiful thing at its prime. To freeze it in time, while its young and beautiful. To preserve it at its best for eternity. Growing old is overrated. There's no glamour in it.
The train comes to a stop. You get up and grab your bag, and I slowly follow you out at a safe distance. But you know I'm behind you. I can tell you know, there's a nervous, excited energy throughout your body.
I follow you for a couple minutes, until you slow down your pace. You turn to look at me, and flash me a shy smile, and I smile back. I'm close to you now. So close.
What an honor it will be, to end a thing so beautiful. I hope you know, I don't take the privilege for granted.
I'm inches away from you, when I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. I take it out, glance at it briefly. A text message. I sigh, frustrated. This is not how I planned today to go. Not at all.
You look at me, confused. You were hoping I would approach you, say hello. And thus a brand new romance would begin. But I turn around and go back.
Yet again, you got lucky. Maybe I should take you to Vegas next time. I wonder if you'll ever know that he has saved your life not once, but twice.
Goodbye, for now.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.