she sat staring holes through me from the back of the room

her purse on her lap

cigarette in her mouth

eyes squinting from the smoke

hands folded on top of her hand bag

just staring

“if you have something to say just fucking say it.”

the cigarette flares red as she takes a long drag

the blue smoke is her response

i snap my fingers and she vanishes

the cloud of smoke the only lingering effect

‘robin williams said if you need drugs and alcohol to enjoy life, you’re doing it wrong’

‘wasn’t he an addict and alcoholic that killed himself after going clean’

silence

the only acceptable response

like when someone says they believe in god

my response is that i can fly

they argue that it is impossible

i don’t have to prove to them that i can fly just share my belief

the burden of proof is on them to prove i cannot

they argue that makes no sense

i say

‘there is no god’

they say look around

‘god is everywhere’

i point in the distance

‘i flew to that peak in the distance’

they scoff

‘but look over there, it is the peak i flew to’

an argument without empirical proof is empty like the room i sit in

she is back

still staring

reaching into her purse for a fresh cigarette

her yellow stained fingers have a slight tremble

she pulls out a heavy pistol and aims it at me

‘don’t tease now love’

the barrel bounces as she points

a sharp crack fills the room but i appear to have fallen slightly before it

a warm wet sensation begins to replace my shirt

i hear her fighting with the lighter to get her smoke lit

eventually she succeeds

and i snap my fingers to make her vanish right before the dried tobacco ignites

i’m alone here

in and out of reality

like a möbius strip

the drugs are not strong enough to kill the pain

just mute it

so instead of thundering waves of agony

it is a colony of wasps

a constant hum and strike

waves of intensity in jerky meter

she’ll be back to glare hatred soon

i should sleep