down in me

She balanced the bird by its beak on the tip of her finger and I smiled apprehensively. That’s what I do when I’m nervous, scared, happy, sad, or anything. I smile. The smile may grow into a laugh the way anxiety grows into fear. I worried that if she left she would never return.

“Wait,” I wanted to voice a desire or a command, but what came out was more of a supplication. Wait, don’t go, please stay with me, I’m scared, I’ll let you play these tricks on me and pretend to be none the wiser if you stay.

She smiled indulgently, bounced the bird down then up and again, and on the second upswing he took flight. He was beautiful and she was beautiful for having held him and I was lonelier than ever. She put her arms around me consolingly. I remembered that I didn’t know anything about her and brusquely pulled away. She continued to smile.

“Can you speak? Are you mute?” Why was I filled with such horror at the idea of this girl leaving? This girl I’ve never known, whose voice I’ve never heard, whose glittering eyes I remember the way one remembers a dream? Her flowing white dress looked ready to take flight. I trembled now with indignation.

“Why are you doing this? Why won’t you speak?”

She keeps smiling, smiling quietly and serenely and looking at me with pity and I can’t stand that gorgeous smile another second. I pull the knife out of my pocket and slash her from head to chest diagonally through the face. She splits like paper, still smiling as the two pieces of her float to the floor. Somewhere far away, the bird croaks in pain.

I shudder with relief and excitement and fall to my knees beside the two pieces of her, now flat and frozen smiling, slashed in half.

I’m cursed, I think. I’m cursed.