Lust Demented

{LV}

A BREEZE OF PURITY DRIFTS through the townhouse. A peace I’ve never known. Shoes are lined up at the door. Next to Missy’s boots are Chiara’s sneakers. I put down the heavy bag and bend over to pick up the tiny shoes. I cup them in my palm. Sparkling white and clean, only a baby’s shoes could look like they’ve never been worn.

Placing the shoes gently back where I found them, I spread open the Louis Vuitton bag at the teeth marks. The money is missing. All I can smell is mold. Something of obscene value replaces the government’s secret dirty green recipe. I dump the bag upside down. Paperbacks of A Greater Truth spill out onto the floor. I wonder what happened to Missy out of habit realizing the woman herself is upstairs in the flesh. As far as she knew I vanished to the land of no return, so why wouldn’t she come home?

Keeping a copy with me, I stand up, immediately captured by the photos on the wall. Percy is missing from the shots. I stand there in his place. Whether I like it or not: I am living his life.

Light fills the first floor of the townhouse. There’s no volcano erupting. Lava fails to rush in. It’s the same sun that rises every day. The sun that is so fucking hard to ignore when it’s blaring in your eyes. The sun that is just as easy to forget, overlook, and even resent.

A pair of scissors sparkle on the kitchen table. They are the same ones that sliced into my neck. I pick up the scissors, snipping at the air. Dry blood falls as the blades lock. A little more drops when they reopen. The wound on my neck itches ruthlessly. I wish I could take my whole neck off. Somehow the murder weapon metamorphisizes into a pen. A pen that is already moving. A pen that can do damage on empty space. A pen that can create boundless worlds. The page fills in front of me with characters who question the possibility of my success with the same tenacity they welcome my descent. The pen was never there. I’m carving into the oak table with a pair of scissors. In a flash the table turns to flesh. In a blink it returns to oak.

I put the scissors down, walking up the spiral stairs leading to the second floor and then the next set up to the top floor. The third floor smells of fragrant lotion and soap. I let loose a sneeze that could wake a sleeping lioness. I wasn’t sure how Missy would react to the realization that I was so hard to kill off.

Reaching the sanctuary in the high clouds. Missy is sprawled in bed nude sleeping. Chiara seems to expect me. Bobbing up and down, full of energy, she’s banging a paperback against a glowing tablet. I slide into the covers next to her. I want to get to know what she’s all about, but she just wants to show me her books. Chiara starts with the tablet, flicking her hand back and forth, pausing at the title: A Greater Truth by Missy Featherton.

One day you wake up in a new world. A new world that didn’t form while you were sleeping. A new world that was always there. A bright sunrise blazes through every window. Missy and Chiara are sleeping at my side. I run my hand over my throat searching for the scar, but can’t find it. I clench both hands into a fist, fanning them out to find ten fingers. I look at the apartment floor impressed by the lack of cemetery dirt.

Somehow love crawled into my arms and that’s all that matters. I hold Chiara over my head, but she begs for the paperback that is lying next to her. She’s too young to read, but just the right age to chew on the corners. Every few bites, she takes a break to laugh in joy. Slapping down at the cover. Laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. She can say it better without words. She’s new to the world and already knows… there is something greater than the truth.

“I love you.” I tell them both with the same breath.

“I love you too Percy.” Missy whispers lost in a deep dream.