101 Words

I never imagined it would end like this.

NoNoNoNoNoNo. I was in love.

I lifted my hands from Kyle’s body. I shook, ice filling the marrow of my bones. The night dripped thick and hot, making me fight for what little oxygen remained.

I gulped for air, then lurched forward. My hands hit the still steaming asphalt as my stomach churned up Southern Comfort and mandarin chicken. I sat back, road-grit burrowing into my bare knees like starving ticks.

A bird voice in my brain screamed, Run! But I just kneeled there, jelly-legged, staring as my vomit mixed with Kyle’s blood.

She got married today.

My ordeal was over. Yet, I felt another one brewing as I looked at the dying sun. The water of the lake was flat as glass, the sun’s orange glow danced as a soft breeze disturbed the tranquility.

“It’s all in the wrist, son,” my father said as he flicked a flat stone across the surface of the water. One…two…three…four…

My little hands picked up a stone and flicked it. Plop! It went right in.

“It’s in the wrist,” I said as I sent my wedding band sailing across the shimmering surface.

One…two…

I work in a shipping company and had missed my previous vacation. I wanted to surprise my ever-loving wife and planned to appear suddenly before her with wonderful gifts.

Walking down the lane, appreciating every change that had happened in a year’s time I slowed down as my sweet home neared. I stopped by the reflecting window of a house, one block from my own, to check on my appearance.

The door of my house opened, a man came out. My wife was holding on to him like a loving crab!

Dejected, I returned to my ship. My boss was surprised.

One cloudy and listless day eager Elita had a confrontation with meticulous Marcello, but there was no way to make sense of the stinging string of words that came from Marcello’s mustachioed mouth; furthermore, Elita wondered why she had latterly been prevailed upon to perform the equivalent of latrine duty, yet with the insatiable force of a maelstrom the question swirled in her mind, and her dignified dream of being at the helm of the company perished, till, and this was quite unexpected, Marcello offered her a directorship with the explanation that she had always been, despite everything, the chosen one.

I’m a woman, taught I’m beneath men. Weak. Worthless. A substandard being.

Not entirely human.

Like a toy, or cattle. A subhuman entity to control.

If I’m not human, what am I? Can’t I be something more?

Many mighty beings aren’t human. Goddesses, dragons, robots and such.

All together vengeful, wise and powerful. Commanders of all, subordinates to none.

If femininity entails inhumanity, can’t I be like them?

Can’t I rise above my status and oppressors, Improving on faults born of their ‘humanity’?

So, I honor them, bearing my ‘inhumanity’ to bring justice, wisdom and vengeance to a darkly ‘human’ world.

“Oh, now that’s your ‘date’? Phew! Someone old enough to be your father!”

”It’s not what you think, Honey. Just hear me out…,” blocking the restaurant’s entrance.

I’m heedless. My next actions seem fast-forward, while my thinking is slow motion.

My clenched fist raised and going all street fight style, I ignore whatever tries to remind me that patience is the fruit of the Spirit. Approaching from behind, I disregard the Voice of restraint, until a sucker punch on his temple clears the eyes. My eyes.

But not soon enough for my girlfriend’s “That’s my Dad!” to be of any use.