Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Two Lovers Kneeling on a Grave
Grimshaw and LeRose kneeled over a grave facing one another. Meticulously they began clawing at each other’s chests, for to truly know one another they had to dig deep. LeRose was extra curious and with each scoop of flesh she learned more and more about the boy in front of her.
In the first layer of skin she learned about his growing up with the family dog; long afternoons of playing fetch, messy baths, an unfortunate death. They were close, and the dog’s sudden demise still plagued him. Another scrape revealed fond memories of a Boy Scout camping trip where he learned to fish, and a scratch on his arm revealed a severe case of arachnophobia. Scratches and scrapes here and there showed his fear of growing old and dying alone, a boy who maybe wasn’t hugged enough as a child but always had his guitar to turn to. Another scrape, his dream of becoming an astronaut. A hand full of flesh, a game of truth and dare, his first kiss, and his first summer job. She plucked off one of Grimshaw’s finely pointed ribs and it shouted emphatically to her about how complete he felt every time he got a new girlfriend. Finally, LeRose held Grimshaw’s pounding heart in her pale hand. Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Bu-bump. Each little beat whispered ‘I love you’ into her ear. She rolled her eyes.
LeRose gazed down at her own chest and at Grimshaw’s large, clumsy hands scratching away. His nails had barely drawn blood. The blood flowed little by little, drip drip drip, plopping on the ground. Each bead of the liquid screamed in a shrill voice. He was hopeless, she was bored. The game was long over, but he still knew so little.
So with that boredom ringing, shouting in her ears, she did the only thing she could to make it stop. She crushed his heart.