Her speech seemed to garble with the sounds of rushing water. Christian could hear what his girlfriend of two months was saying, he could hear, but it didn’t necessarily mean he was listening. There were other things more important than listening to her speak, like the dishes, perhaps. Over the course of the week, they began to resemble a pile of colored slates that someone placed into a river after feasting upon forest leaves and squirrels. Damn those squirrels.
“My parents are absolutely hopeless! I mean my mom and her new boyfriend insist on spending time with me – Christian, Christian!” Her voice broke Christian’s reverie of squirrels tiptoeing across twigs and branches.
Dropping the dishes into the sink and throwing the sponge back into the soapy water, he dramatically announced, “What is it? Helena, what in the world is it that’s so important that you demand my attention when clearly I could care less!” He crossed his hands over his chest, still soapy with detergent. He saw Helena’s gaze stiffen as she opened her mouth to say something then stopped. The familiar look of hurt on her brow softened his tone.
Her chair scraped the floor as she rose to go back to the room they shared every night.
“Helena, wait just moment,” Christian took steps to cover the length of her small stride just before she shut the door on him. “Helena..” His voice meandered on the last syllable as he grazed his nail across the wooden door. He opened it leaving soap dripping from his finger tips.
The room was quiet. “I’m sorry, why don’t we go to the park and feed the squirrels, Helena.” His bed sheets were strewn up against the corner. “I’ll take you out to eat.” Broken glass lay at the foot of the dresser. “Remember when we met back at the park?” The acrid smell of decay prevented the cold night breeze from entering the window screen. “I complemented your hair.” He slowly stepped to the space between the bed and the wall and ran his hand over his girlfriend’s hair that has since started to fall out. It tangled around his soapy fingers as it came away. “I took your hand.” He knelt placing his free hand on the cuff and kissed the torn flesh around it. “Took you home for dinner and you yelled at me, Helena.” A look of mocked pain pursed his lips together. “I loved you from the moment I laid my hands on you.” He paused looking at the piece of glass lodged into her head just below her earlobe and he pulled it out carefully.
“Come on, darling. Let’s go feed the squirrels,” he whispered, carefully cutting more decaying bruised flesh from her calf with the broken glass. His own blood mixing in with the remains. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy it much more than we will. Silly squirrels.”
