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After Midnight
Sunlight falls across my face. I can see the silhouette of the buildings across from our flat. Huh- guess it’ll be his flat, now. If I can do this. If I can just get up and go. Like I told myself I would…God, I’m an idiot. He came in late last night, just like I knew he would, and I had told myself if it happened again, it would be the last time, because I would be gone the next morning, with my bags packed for Los Angeles, finally ready to…
The shadows from the light- shadows of my form, now- are lying across him, mockingly, making imaginary love. He’s cheating on me with my shadow…if that’s not ironic, I don’t know what is. I look over and see a pigeon resting on the window. It looks me straight in the eye, cocks its head to the side, and then dives over the edge. I don’t see it come back up and flap away, but maybe it just swooped to the left of my view. I get up, clutching the blanket to my chest, that red blanket that we bought together and came with the bed- the queen-sized, fluffy one from the place four and a half blocks from where I’m now standing. We laughed a lot when we bought it- I leaned my head on his shoulder, he held my arm like we were about to go to a ball or something, the kind I dreamed of as a little girl. The kind princesses meet their true loves at.
I wonder if Cinderella ever wished she had waited a few months before marrying some guy based solely on her shoe size. Maybe explored her options a bit. What if Prince Charming had some annoying habits, or was actually a jerk, or had a beer gut? That last one was mean, I guess… But no, she wouldn’t have- because she honestly thought it was perfect, that he was perfect. I suddenly have the oddest thought- I want to have a girls’ night out with her, and talk trash about the stupid princes we rushed at, the first guys we kissed and held hands with and went to a dance with. And how stupid fairy tales are.
I see the sun coming up over the buildings now. Just the top half, like a halo or a crown. I’ve been praying a lot since things started going bad, but maybe things haven’t changed because they were always bad, and I was just blind. Maybe I’m reading into these things too much. He says I do things like that. Find meaning where none exists. Maybe it’s just where he can’t see it, though.
I told him I’m going to an interview for a better job today, just to give me some time if I decide to go. It’d be so easy, I could just pack my bag with the little yellow dress I bought myself years ago and leave the rest. Leave it all, and just take all the money we have stuffed under the mattress. I made it all, anyway. His breath probably made its way into it, but the stench of alcohol would fade away soon enough.
He turns over in his sleep. He looks perfect, and I see the boy I fell in love with when I was just some girl at the prom. I look over to the dresser- it’d take me no more then five minutes to get dressed, ten minutes to ride the subway to the plaza, get a taxi and ride another quarter of an hour to the airport. I could be on a flight to Los Angeles by lunchtime. Or I could go and melt into his arms again, and ignore the flaws and just see what I wanted. Just go and ride the subway again. That’d be easy too. I’ve had this exact moment before, so many times, and I’m pretty sure I know exactly what decision I’ll make.
But then I see the pigeon rising back up, and circling around. It lands on my window again, flaps its wings impatiently. The rising sun shoots beams of light through its wings, like a guardian angel. It wants me to fly away with it.
So I do.
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