Look Both Ways
He opens the door and steps into the dark. His nightly ritual is barely getting him by anymore. He walks the desolate streets, only pausing for the redundant stop hands that animate every corner. Paying mind only 3ft ahead of him. His eyes face down as they look straight through the cracked sidewalk. To him they are his guide. So routine they should all have names and back stories. They remind him of her. From a distance they appear uniform and identical until you get close and see how sporatic and unique they are. Unintentionally broken from stress, weathered and rough to the touch. Unlike her they never let him down, they are always there. Maybe he should call her, but he knows how that will end. She'll pick up, he'll hang up. Its been this way for months. Its hopeless.
With every step he takes comes a still frame snapshot of her larger than life. Lately she hasn't been smiling and some of these photos are beginning to fade. All of this used to do the trick. All of these late night treks across this concrete battlefield. Through the manhole mists and the motor oil masterpieces. His path lit by blinking traffic lights and the occassional sad soul passing by without notice. He assumes they are in the same boat. They just deal with it in their own ways. They try to forget or give it their best. Its hopeless.
It has been months since the last legit phone call. It was the one that ended it all. Confused and fed up with all the fighting, he threw in the towel. That phone call started these late night thinkfests. He is beginning to regret his decision. He wonders if she goes through all of this. Her likely tactic would be to surround herself with friends. Not to cure the lonliness, but to forget about the cold side of the bed. She was always stronger. He was the weak one. Its hopeless.
He catches a glimpse of the moon, in all its pale glory, as it breaks through the clouds. He sees her face and a tear forms in his eye. Just as he is about to break down his phone brings him back to reality. There is a voicemail. Its her. She can't take it anymore. She is coming home to see him as soon as the call is returned. This time he won't hang up at the sound of hello. This time he will apologize and make things right. As he dials the number he turns the corner. Its hopeful.
Her phone rings.
"Hello?"
"This is a detective and there has been an accident"
"Is he ok?"
"I'm afraid not, he didn't make it. I can tell you this though...he didn't feel a thing."
With every step he takes comes a still frame snapshot of her larger than life. Lately she hasn't been smiling and some of these photos are beginning to fade. All of this used to do the trick. All of these late night treks across this concrete battlefield. Through the manhole mists and the motor oil masterpieces. His path lit by blinking traffic lights and the occassional sad soul passing by without notice. He assumes they are in the same boat. They just deal with it in their own ways. They try to forget or give it their best. Its hopeless.
It has been months since the last legit phone call. It was the one that ended it all. Confused and fed up with all the fighting, he threw in the towel. That phone call started these late night thinkfests. He is beginning to regret his decision. He wonders if she goes through all of this. Her likely tactic would be to surround herself with friends. Not to cure the lonliness, but to forget about the cold side of the bed. She was always stronger. He was the weak one. Its hopeless.
He catches a glimpse of the moon, in all its pale glory, as it breaks through the clouds. He sees her face and a tear forms in his eye. Just as he is about to break down his phone brings him back to reality. There is a voicemail. Its her. She can't take it anymore. She is coming home to see him as soon as the call is returned. This time he won't hang up at the sound of hello. This time he will apologize and make things right. As he dials the number he turns the corner. Its hopeful.
Her phone rings.
"Hello?"
"This is a detective and there has been an accident"
"Is he ok?"
"I'm afraid not, he didn't make it. I can tell you this though...he didn't feel a thing."