- Life After Fire –
But then you smile. Smile and I forget how I hate you. Smile and I forget how ugly you are. Smile and I am in love. Smile and I want to marry you. Smile and I can't stop kissing you. Smile and I can't stop falling in love with you. So just keep smiling. Those perfect teeth, so white I can see them in the dark. The rest of you just tan enough so I can't see you in the dark and it's perfect. Beauty, always and forever, a light switch away. God, how I love power outages. Smile. I promised to make you breakfast, but all you're getting is toast. I walk down the hall towards the kitchen and as I do I make sure not to step on anything. Boxes everywhere labeled with my name. I've lived here for six months now but everything stays in its box because things could change anytime. You never know. You get much uglier and even your perfect teeth won't save you. I grab the bread out of the refrigerator. Pretending not to notice the mold I throw in two slices on the highest setting. The goal being, naturally, to blacken the toast so it hides the mold. You'll never know. I put your breakfast on a plate and throw it on the table. I'm having a Denver omelet. As soon as my breakfast is done I turn off all of the lights and I holler your name. It's about time you get out of bed. The house is always dark. By now you should be used to this. You should love it. After all, I told you, I have a condition. I made up that story about being extremely sensitive to light or something. Be more sympathetic. Come on. Smile at me. Boxes are scattered everywhere through the hall and, to be fair I more than likely kicked a few into new and exciting positions. Some against the wall, others newly in the way of your path. Just trying to keep things interesting. That's when I hear you hit the floor. That's when I hear you scream. That's when I start laughing. Four eggs, two pieces of ham and half a green pepper, diced. Hold the onion. In my opinion this is the perfect omelet. It's very fluffy and very filling and arguably there was way more than enough for you, but I'm pretty sure you really, really like burnt toast. - 17 -