The Talk

When the power went out while at a party, I thought I saw my girlfriend kiss my bestie, and that I could tell by the dark outline of her body that she was enjoying pulling a fast one. It made me sick inside to think that she could be enjoying such a thing, like being a survivor hiding out in a bombed town and watching through a crack in a wall the enemy line innocent kids up in the street and shoot them for being a disease. I felt so dirty and wrong inside, guilty in fact, but I hadn’t done anything. The next day after work when I asked her if she’d cheated on me, she denied everything and asked me to leave for thinking so little of her. “It’s not that I think so little of you, it’s that I think so highly of you and want to understand how you’ve been possessed by a tyrannical femme-fatale shadow I’m pissed off with but can probably learn from” I said. Uh-oh. Her face changed. “He kisses way better than you,” she said. “How much better?” I said. “Like he does it for his job,” she said. “That good huh,” I said. “Better than that, actually. It was like I was being penetrated by a snake god while under a hypnotic levitation spell you never want to come down from,” she said. “A different reality, a release,” I said. “Totally, she said. “I see what you mean,” I said. “Thanks for being so understanding,” she said. “You know me,” I said. “You’re the best,” she said. Then she planted one on me. “Now get out please. The snake god is coming over.” “That was fast,” I said. “Like liquid lightning,” she said. “Well, far be it from me to get in the way of liquid lightning,” I said.