Even if I went to sleep right now

You’re outside my window, again, Medusa Hair.  Suspended two storeys up, staring, hair snaking in a wind that’s not natural.  I just want to sleep.  And this is the third night in a row.  I’d draw the curtains if I hadn’t ripped them down, tired of you opening them with your mind.  Tried turning over, but turns out you’re backlit, and your hair shadow just dances on my wall.

Well tonight I will not look at you.

No.

Nuh-huh.

I will not.

But then I do.

Yeah, you’re still there.

Do you know that even if, even if I went to sleep right now, I’d still only get 4 hours?

I close my eyes and see you have managed to etch yourself behind my eyelids.  Clever.  Good job I don’t believe eyes roll into the back of your head when you close them, because if I did then you’d be inside my head, and that, Medusa Hair, would not be okay.

It’s not like you even want something specific.  I mean, I’ve asked – through the window.  Noticed your mad eyes (typical).  But other than that and the wavy hair you’re giving me nothing.  I Googled you and seems you’re not the Medusa; I haven’t turned to stone.  I won’t tell you that because I think you’re really proud of your hair.  It is good.  You have good hair.

I shout that out: “You have good hair.”  Maybe you just want compliments?

“And your eyes are very good at the crazy thing.”

No change.  No fading away, no softening of face, no taming of hair.

“I’d do you.  If you were, y’know, human and real and maybe a little less clingy.”

You’re gone.  I might have just encouraged you to play hard to get.

Teresa Stenson writes short stories, sends them out and hopes for the best.  She's been published in various journals and anthologies. She keeps a blog www.teresa-stenson.blogspot.com.

© 2009, Metazen. All rights reserved.

No related posts.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 19th, 2009 at 1:22 pm