Wizardness

Fantasy and Speculative Short Stories


A Study of Grief

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“FUCK!” He cried. “FUUUUUCK! What do you want from me?” He collapsed to his knees. He let out a heart wrenching sob. Snot dripped from his nose. “What do you want? Please, just tell me.”
The other man stared at him impassively. His face rocky and hard. He swallowed. He looked as if he was about the speak.
The first man’s eyes widened, pleading, begging for something, anything from the other man.
The other man thought better. The subtle express flitted away.
The first man, Mike, his face fell. He fumbled about his shirt. A sob ripped from his throat. He sniffed loudly through his tears.
The other man, Tom, sighed.
“Fuck you! Fuck you and your sighing.” Mike screamed. He half staggered to his feet. “If you’d only told me. If you’d been open with me! Tell me! Talk to me. Please?” Mike collapsed. He looked up. Tom was gone. Mike curled into a ball. He stared up at the wall, where a picture of Mike and Tom on a fishing trip hung.
“I would give anything to hear that sigh again.” Mike moaned.
Some time later Mike woke. Tom was there again. He briefly shook his head, but gave him a warm smile. It flitted away quickly. In his way, it was a big smile. Tom’s face quickly settled into his stoic flatness.
Mike unballed himself. His back ached, his hip hurt, and something cracked loudly when he dragged himself up from the floor. He bladder screamed for attention.
Mike staggered, then fell into a rough limp as he walked towards the bathroom. Along the way he dropped the dark blue suit jacket. It was the darkest he had. He slipped off the dark tie, it was somewhere between black, blue, and purple. His shirt slipped off. He’d managed to destroy the buttons while crying on the floor.
He plopped on the toilet. Did his business. After he pulled off his pants and leaned over to turn on the shower. He stared at the floor. He blinked. He’d better hurry. Tom would be here soon for their, their… For their what? What was it again.
Mike dragged himself from the toilet. He hopped in the shower. It was too hot, so he lowered the temperature. He lathered up and rinsed. He watched the water pool and swirl around his feet. Water flowed in and out of his belly button down his dick then like he was pissing into the tub.
Some time later, the water grew cool. Mike blinked. He turned and shut off the water. He grabbed his towel and dried himself. He hung the towel on the rack, poorly. Half was resting on the floor. He glanced at the mirror. It was slowly unfogging. His face was drawn, pale, even with the steam, and hot water. He looked wane. His stubble was several days old.
Hadn’t he shaved that morning?
He staggered to the kitchen. Still naked. His curtains were open. He glanced out the window as he rounded the corner. A woman was doing yoga in her living room across the condo building. He shuffled behind the counter. He pulled down some cereal and grabbed the milk jug. He poured it. Chunks tumbled out of the milk. The sell by date should be days from now.
Tom tutted over Mike’s shoulder.
“Oh, you’re back. Don’t we have fishing today?” Mike asked offhandedly.
Tom cleared his throat.
Mike looked at him. There was a pamphlet pinned to the door.
Mike found himself clothed and in a coffee shop. He checked his phone. Tom was late. They’d met here the past three years.
One of the other regulars passed, “Sorry about Tom.”
Tom was suddenly in his seat. He stared very intently at Mike. Mike nodded.
Mike was in his bed. He hugged his pillow. Tears flowed down his face. He stood and walked to the kitchen. He looked at the Pamphlet.
“In Loving memory. Tom ….”
Mike looked away. He turned and leaned up against the wall. He slowly let himself slide down the wall.
“I miss you, Tom.” Tears blurred his vision.
Mike felt Tom settle down next to him, as sleep took him.

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