***
You ’ ve fucked up , and it ’ s the fear of this that finally drags you back into the world . ‘ Hey ,’ you say , when you ’ re able to again . ‘ Hi .’ ‘ I love you .’ Elodie turns to face you . She actually is doing her work this time , back hunched over the breakfast bar , fingers loud against the laptop keyboard . She hasn ’ t spoken to you since she found you . She has dark bags under her eyes , her lips are bloody from chewing , fingernails gnawed to the quick . You are her pet cadaver , you realise . You think you ought to take her picture , do something that brings you together again , takes you back to that classroom , to that chance seating-plan . You think you ’ ve gone too far this time . But she smiles . Broad and warm , cereal between her teeth . ‘ I love you too , you freak ,’ she laughs , turns back to her laptop , and carries on with her ridiculous , ephemeral life .
Danse Macabre 26