The Suitcase

Let me in.. let me in.. I love you. The sound of rain hitting the siding of the shack.. the echoes of fat droplets of rain ricocheting against the rusty metal surrounding her in this metallic matchbox of an abode.

Don’t be daft, love.. Let me in. A plea.. a shout.. a cry… the wounded ego of the male.. a semi castrated figure outside .. being pelted by rain.. soaking him to his socks and briefs… knocks.. knocks..

Bugger of… I had enough of you Jeremy.. knocks.. knocks… flesh on metal..skin on rusty metal…knocks..a symphony of noises..short..long.. persistent. A deluge of rain and knocks on a lonely door at the end of a driveway on a November night.  

Let me in you miserable creature … the true you. finally she thought.. the monster in you.. Open the bleeding door or else.. an ultimatum.. a threat..

Lights are being turned on in various bedrooms and rooms in the street.. shadows by windows.. semi opened curtains.. eyes.. eyes surrounding them.. prying on their misery. Flannel robes over nightgowns…square pants.. just the curious.. the nosy.. ghetto entertainment.

Open the door… have mercy.. please.. pleads..begs…mud all over his boots.

The memory of the first slap.. the first fist against her face.. the breakage of capillaries under her skin.. marbling of blood into derma.. bruises.. swollen pools of internal blood in shades of navy and black.

All that he was for her was just a suitcase with a broken handle.. a lousy cracked suitcase with the lining exposed.. him.. she loved him.. once.. and that what remained of him in her life.. a battered suitcase. She opened his nightstand and dresser and filled the suitcase with his underwear, socks, few pants and shirts.. threw his toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor and his pack of condoms.. three boots on the top.. a tug.. a push and the zipper closes this battered thing..dragging it to the bathroom window..

Here are your things .. she lifts the suitcase slowly over the edge of the window and pushes it into the pool of mud under the window… she closes the latch on the window..

A cry… a stone breaks the window… a cobweb of glass reflecting on the wall.. her heart beating fast.. an Olympic race.. her arms covering her face.. a fetal position on the bathroom’s floor.

Footsteps receding into the night.. a shadow dragging a suitcase into the unknown. She is alone.. safe, but alone.

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