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"Omega Story"
Claude AnShin Thomas

The clouds seemed pasted into the sky, the air smelled of snow and my soul felt wrapped in barbed wire as I reached for the door handle of the trailer. I wasn't supposed to be home now - I'm an unexpected visitor. As I slowly, softly, turned the handle I could hear her voice so clearly in my head.

"So what's the matter with you, you haven't touched me in weeks. We haven't made love in months!! What's the matter with you anyway, huh? Got another girlfriend? Or do you just really hate me that much you, you, you insensitive fuckin' asshole! You love that god-damn motorcycle more than you love me !! What's wrong with you (man), come on, fuckin' tell me, say something you know, don't just sit there like some useless pile of shit. But you know to call you that is flattery because I'd probably get more affection and more fuckin' attention from a pile of shit than I get from you. Come on talk to me, say something for Christ's sake or I'm fuckin' outta here to find someone who will give me the attention you ain't!!

I remember the door slamming as she left. The sound invading my stomach like some blunt instrument stealing g my breath.

I couldn't touch her, I just couldn't. I wanted to hold her, love her and just couldn't. I wanted to tell her, explain how there was this hole in the middle of my chest where my heart was supposed to be and that I felt dirty inside or somehow unclean. That when I touched her I knew that I was supposed to feel something but I didn't. And I was consumed by some sort of guilt about this. That touching her then just became to painful. I wanted to tell her this and tried but she just looked at me with a mixture of hurt, anger, and loathing telling me what a horrible, disgusting excuse of a human being I was and on, and on, and on.

My breath came more quickly as I eased the door open, afraid of what I might find behind it's sanctuary. Afraid of who the owner of the strange car in the driveway might be, terrified.