Cause or Consequence

She paused and pondered.

This is foolish. I insist on summoning him and then kick him off of the porch like the disgusting dirty stray dog that he is. I can't ever have anything to do with such a creature. One that creeps about with hunger for misery. Trying to bring ruin upon himself by lying by my ruins.

Her left foot sunk in the screeching boards and she knew there was no escape now. He never needed doorbells. And his existence was one of solitude so it was sure that soon enough his sun wrinkled skin would make an appearance through the living room's window.

What am I doing here? How long until I swerve from this agonizing death circle? I request his presence beneath my feet over and over again. And I slide with him onto this bed of sickness. With him I can be the bug and the squasher. I can't leave now.

Eyes set on the lamp above the front door she waited. Through the glass she could see the dead insects that formed almost a carpet. Soon it would be night and more little flying things would come to wander around the corpses. And they would see the light shine through the bodies of their falling brothers almost making them alive again.

It was too long. By now she should already be in his sickening comforting arms, in his old red couch that reeks of an oddly enough soft smelling combination of beer, sweat, sex and cheese. She kept on balancing her weight on her left foot as if she was a demented violin player detuning his instrument in the silent evening.

Oh, where the hell is he? I'm not going to wait for him. He's the dog not me. How dare he?

She let anger take hold of her. She sought every shred of rage and griped it in her clenched fist, keeping it close to her heart. She was pinching the skin hard so she wouldn't feel the burn. And this burn was a sort of pain that she could not allow to take place. Not inside her. And not because of him or anyone else.

But she kept still. She slowly went to the door. Halted for a second and looked around for witnesses.

Fuck it, I'll just knock. I'm doing him a favor. He'll regret it not being here.

She knocked once quickly as if afraid that the door would suck her in as a black hole. For a moment she smiled internally thinking of those people in movies that can't even wait one second for someone to come open the door before they freak out thinking something might have happened. But then the second was over. And after that many more came raining down but with no answer. She knocked again. Twice this time. Her head bent to try and capture even the slightest disturbance inside the house. Her fingers against the door.

Where are you? I need you. No. You fucking bastard. I need you. Where are you?

She walked away. She would never tell him about this.

I'll never come for him again. Ever. This is goodbye.

The rage was dissolving into sadness. Quiet accepting sadness. And she would be back again.