Friday Flash: Dark Room

Tiger Rock, Pangkor

Tiger Rock, Pangkor

You said I was awkward and I thought you meant it kindly, and then the day we moved in together you called me neat, I also took this as a compliment. There was, as I notice only now, a gap in our vocabulary, in the language we spoke – but also the way we viewed each other. I’ve always loved pets, is what I tell people, but I’m of course biased to cats and the rest seem quite unnecessary to me – but your career, the word ‘vet’ denotes something soft and cartoonish, I laugh in a room within my heart – where I post unflattering pictures of you, where I think my most hideous thoughts.

I chamber all the things I don’t like about you and us there, so a smile can emerge on my face. Maybe that’s what you meant by neat, you could sense the way I cleaned myself up for the world – you could see through me, into me – and this was how we became lovers, you understood me but chose to keep seeing, not walk away. What happens then, when you’ve broken into my dark room? There two seats lie, a table in between – you and I sit there sometimes, and you attempt to pry deeper – would there be a darker place, beyond this? You intuitively know, while we sit there – that a light still beams within me, there are good things submerged. In all this bitterness, unhappiness – you see me for all the things I try to hide, or are hidden from me – it is in this way we most diverge, and converge.

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Al can also be found at ISSUE Magazine.

in response to Monday’s picture prompt in the post entitled Satin.

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