What was I thinking, I knew I would have hell to pay. I have no self control. I thought, if I could tell just one person,
I lay there, in the dark, unable to sleep. A satisfactory excitement, an excited satisfaction. In the nights’ actions, I knew this one would carry consequences, heavy ones, but I reaped the benefits; I had played my part, and for it dwelled in my pleasures. It began as a warm evening, and the room remembered that. No curtains hung, just dimming blinds that provided only peace of mind. With the street lights cutting in at angles, playing on the awakened eye so the only comforting place left to stare, was the abyss white ceiling. The blankets askew, they laid there as dead weight. They kept me complacent with reality. So I rolled over, slowly, attempting to naturalize my slow-motion, so that if I woke her, she’d understand. I gathered my randomly dispensed clothes, maintaining the level of urgency that I had entered with, only the aim was now to be on the reverse side of the door. I turned the handle slowly and gently pulled; mimicking an action she had just executed, and just as I had, the door now let white fragments blind the instigator.
