…ELECTRIC; lightning strikes so numerous, I stayed grounded for my own safety, arcing sparks invisible to anyone else but me, charging my life, no three pronged plug or socket – ON always.
I met her eyes, introducing myself, holding her gaze from the other side of the pedestrian crossing. She looked up. The light turned green — as if her doing. Static, I waited for her to walk over, to melt me, and said ‘hi’ in person, positive we were compatible, our rendezvous hastily arranged. I had to connect, with those live wires etched around her silhouette, dancing like roaring forties fireflies.
Laughter, light and our bodies we shared; dying in that order. Testing me, reinventing me, until inevitably she blew my fuse with her lightning bolts, her lust for life searching beyond me, bored of the current me, souring milk in her thunderstorms, her voltage hurting body and mind, friendly loving zaps replaced by lashings with DC power lines.
We burnt each other out in truth, black and charred, seemingly white to you and you, the change in tone only one we could see: once that front door slammed shut.
Corroded, our batteries leaked, lithium lost, I was more soft metal to her hard rock – our parting: no shock.
As with all tales, endings – exposed wires – are difficult to execute cleanly, without a twist. I received a letter from my one time love, hiding in an envelope stained by her unmistakable inkings.
I owed her a sizeable sum, her itemised bill charging me for her electric…and damages caused.
Yes, it had been some time since I last topped up the meter. I knowingly welcomed my candlelit blackout lasting many months with that fateful deft flick of the switch she sent to me.
Great story. Nice job.
Merci beaucoup.