Saturday, October 1, 2011

Out of the Dungeon - Prologue

Out of the Dungeon
SM Johnson

It was one those mornings so clear and sweet that the perfection of being outside pierced my soul. The kind of morning that made me glad to be alive and part of the world. The breeze was fresh, the sun rising into a golden sky that promised a rich, warm afternoon.

We started early on Friday so we could leave early and jump-start the weekend.

Friday used to be my favorite day of the week and for a moment I could almost feel it, the sweet anticipation of freedom. But I was already dreading the many hurts and perceived slights I would suffer during the next three days. I dreaded the weekend so much that a terrifying thought lanced into me like a stab wound. I can't do this anymore.

I winced when I couldn't get the thought out of my head. If I said it to myself, I would have to say it to Roman. Transparency, truth, and trust. Telling Roman would change my life in too many ways to count. A dozen years tumbling down, swirling into dust at our feet.

I told myself it was just one of my dramatic flights of fancy, and could be stuffed back inside my heart. Hidden, the way one hides a lie.

The truth hated the lie, and wanted to burst free, the way we fly out of the office on Friday afternoons. The truth wanted – no, begged – to explode, to spray everyone with the putrid green tinge of jealousy that colors my whole life.

But the contract doesn't allow jealousy.

And I don't know how to live without the contract. 

No comments:

Post a Comment