Miscellany – Issue 20


I miss her.

The sound of doors slamming turns my skin cold.

We’d had an argument, well, you couldn’t call it an argument but she did. We disagreed on loads of stuff. Her willfulness was part of why I love her. She always came out on top in debates, she being so intelligent and savvy and unself-conscious when it came to social dos. I often ended up watching her in her pomp, whether it was putting a blowhard in their place or flowing sensually on the dance floor or even, on occasion, just getting drunk. I used to tease her when she started to slur her words but the great thing was how she remembered all the happenings better than I.

She enjoyed teasing me in the morning by getting up and laughing at my terror as I felt about then kind of flailed an arm when she wasn’t there beside me when I awoke. She taunted me with her favourite joke as she left the house, “I’m leaving,” as though she was never coming back. When the door slammed my heart and mind numbed. When she finally returned home she would throw her arms about my neck and hug me so tightly, at least most of the time.

Although I was very, very curious, I didn’t ask her where she had been or what she had done. In a way I trusted her and never wanted to smother her. When she was with me I felt she gave me everything she was. I couldn’t have been happier.

She had a number of people anyone would call friends. They all had a role to play in her life and I trusted her and didn’t want to smother her. Although I do have to admit to a certain sense of sadness that sometimes when I needed her near and she was elsewhere, I did envy those she had chosen to be with.

The door suddenly slammed.

“Hi, miss me?” she said putting the carton of milk into the fridge.

My heart sank. She was earlier than I’d expected. I gathered the paper and envelope quickly, before she noticed.

She threw her arms about my neck and squeezed me. I must have felt cold. She commented on the fact but this time she didn’t know.

“I’m leaving.” She let go of me and her arms fell limp at her sides.

Before she could say anything I made my way to the door and closed it softly behind me.


I saw her recently and she had to restrain herself from throwing her arms about me as though nothing had happened. Sometimes I believe nothing did happen, though my feelings say something else. She looked as lovely and bright as ever and we exchanged politenesses before parting. At least this time I didn’t see that natural liveliness in her eyes and her disarming smile as any recognition of me.

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