Falling Down
The cold rain pounded her body; she didn’t care. The frigid wind blew; she didn’t mind. The rain masked her tears. The wind screamed louder than her cries. She was grateful for the torrent around her, grateful something rivaled the tornado of emotions inside her.
He arrived around 9, tired from work, not expecting to see her on his front porch. She was soaked through, shivering, somehow seeming both strong and weak.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I wanna fuck.”
“Huh?”
“I wanna fuck you. You wanna fuck me, right?”
“Come inside.”
He fumbled with his keys for a moment before opening his front door and ushering in his half crazed friend. Retrieving a large towel from his linen closet, he handed it to her. She took it, but just held it at her side as if he’d handed her a drink she had no interest in sipping.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“Come on, let’s go upstairs.” She grasped his arm as if to pull him to his bedroom.
“I don’t know if…”
“No, you’re right. Let’s just do it right here.” She began taking off her clothes, an act he wanted her to do but for a very different reason.
“Why aren’t you taking your clothes off,” she snapped at him. He just stood, looking on her with pity. She was naked, shivering by his front door. This was not how he imagined their first fuck would be.
“Where is she?” His friend’s gaze turned red hot.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Love, where is she?”
“She didn’t show,” she screamed. Her voice did not quiet; she began pacing. “We made plans. The restaurant where we had our first date, that little Italian Bistro tucked away in our old neighborhood. And I waited. And waited. And nothing. I called her phone; straight to voicemail. Straight to fucking voicemail. Didn’t even have the balls to tell me why. Why?”
“Love, stop. Stop!”
“I don’t want to stop. I wanna fuck you.”
“You want to hurt her.”
“I want to not feel her. I want to not see her or think about her or…or…”
He caught his friend as she collapsed on his floor. She balled, wailed as she had before he arrived. He took the towel from her hands and wrapped it around her. He held her tight. He waited for her cries to end.
She gripped his shirt, buried her face into his shoulder, and let it out. The pain was like a dagger piercing her heart with each breath. Softly she whimpered “why…why” over and over again.
Eventually, she stopped.
“Oh god. Oh god, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have come over here like this. And your shirt. Your nice dress shirt…”
“I have dozens of them, don’t worry.”
“Jesus. Well I feel real attractive right now.”
“This is definitely not how I planned to get you naked in my house.”
“I am so…so sorry.”
“Stop. Everyone falls down, one time or another. Ready to get up?”
She took a breath and held it for a moment, before softly whispering, “Yes.”
Categorised as: Dialogue | Gen Fiction
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