By Sue Lemon
They were the large nylon kind that were dark and would hide your eyes completely.
He’d come home from a long day and almost slid on the mail as he walked through the front door. He picked up one of the letters and
stalled as he read who it was addressed to.
“Oh, that’s me, isn’t it?” He wasn’t joking.
Tiredness already hit, so the late dinner he had earlier put together in his mind wasn’t going to happen. It was going to be an early night.
The bathroom’s lights weren’t overpowering, but his sunglasses remained on as he brushed his teeth and washed his face. He was glad
with the results he could and couldn’t see in the mirror.
Laying flat on his back he made sure the shades were securely in place. A recollection of her popped up. He tried to stop the memory
as it triggered, but realized it wasn’t going anywhere until it fully played out..
“I don’t know you anymore,” she said, sat on top of him trying to peer through the lenses.
“Did you ever know me? Think about it.”
“I hate you.”
“I hate me too.”
“Is that why you hide behind those stupid glasses?”
“I don’t understand why you’d want to cover those beautiful hazel eyes.”
The memory expired. He touched a lens remembering the color of his eyes. Getting up he stationed himself in front of a vanity mirror.
“One, two, three!” He went to remove the shades, but stopped before they were lifted off his nose bridge. “I can’t let anyone see what’s
inside. They won’t understand. I don’t understand.”
The next memory played via the mirror.
She ran her fingers through his hair and up and down his spine as he repeatedly re-entered her. They were both sweating as the bed
threatened to collapses by letting out loud squeaks. She went for them, but he wasn’t distracted enough by her juicy ecstasy. Her hand
was blocked in the attempt to snatch the Ray Ban’s.
“And I was having fun.”
“Well it’s not fun for me anymore. I can’t live like this.”
“Then leave.” He was only testing her.
“I will.” She wasn’t testing him.
Stepping away from the mirror he sat on his bed and fell back starring at a crack in the white colored ceiling.
Casually leaning against the bedroom wall, he watched her as she struggled to zip the large suitcase on the bed.
“You don’t have to go. It shouldn’t end like this.”
Abandoning the baggage she rushed him, poking him in the chest.
“Don’t! Don’t do this to me anymore.” She gently stroked his face. “Those things. You let them come between us.”
A tear fell.
Spinning her around, he held her against the wall.
“That’s what you really think?”
He let her go and stepped back, in no hurry removing the glasses. He threw them towards the bed.
Stepping into him both hands was placed on his cheeks.
“You see they’re beautiful. What do you have to be afraid of?”
She freely gazed, wandering deeper and deeper. She was startled seeing something familiar, but still she went further. She saw a past,
not his, but the one she’d been running from. Screaming she ran out the bedroom, out the apartment, leaving the suitcase.
The white ceiling reappeared before disappearing again as he fell asleep.