She did more than just merely take his breathe away, she raped his lungs. Oh but to feel that
passion, that burning! To embrace her was to willingly drink bleach. His throat scorched and screamed
in agony until his lungs wholeheartedly accepted her. A frag grenade exploding in his lungs, his throat
feeling the fire, the world around him wavering, slowly going black. After she had accomplished her
goal, his agony, only then could he exhale fighting back coughs that threatened to tear his very lungs from
his chest. The world around him blurred and swayed, his thoughts remaining with her.
But no longer could these late night affairs continue. Surrounded by three cement walls, and a
third made of retractable metal shutters the oil stained floor forced him to acknowledge the atrocity of it
all. It was here, with Santa staring blankly at them both through his plastic containment cell packed
neatly above serving dish turkey and smiling rabbit candle holder Henry had let it all spin madly out of
control. Meeting at a party had turned into regular midnight affairs and now her death was entirely upon
him. He should have kept her secret, not sharing her existence with anyone. She deserved better than that
though. Their love was bound to explode into the public spotlight eventually. Why not do it on his own
time with her there for support.
Lilly had reacted swiftly to the affair and demanded either him, or her go. Never expecting that
reaction he had turned on her, and as Lilly killed her, he watched. Now all evidence of the affair, of her
existence must be destroyed. There could be no proof that she was ever a part of his life. The one person
with whom he’d never known anything but happiness with had left him.
Starting with the work bench he began placing remnants of her in a brown box at his hip. A
collage that had elements from the entire room scattered across it’s surface the workbench would never be
the same once stripped of her traces, evidence of his affair. A tree with cracked, white, peeling bark the
surface of which was covered with various house hold tools, screw drivers, lug nuts, a rusted wrench, a
hammer and nails. Brown rivers with specs of green herbage accumulated in the dried, cracked crevices
of the wooden surface. He inhaled and released a wind which cleared the dust and leaves from the table.
Taint traces of her flesh, her blood, swept up in the wind and dust, disappearing before his eyes.
His fingers grazed a metallic surface. Without looking he quickly placed the object in the box. A
circular metal container with rotating compartments, fitting smugly in the palm of his hand. How lazy had
he been to use such an object. Could he not take the time to see to her himself? Could he not take her in
his own hands, inspect her himself with his own two eyes? No, he had been lazy and had bought a
mechanical device to assist him in his own eagerness to begin. He never thought such a thing would
haunt him so.
Handheld torches in shades of blue, green and black were tossed in the box. The oil that
remained would be useless now. Each new item added to the brown box only deepened his agony. In
ridding the present of her belongings he felt as though he were attempting to rid her from his past as well.
Each item he disposed of was as though he were killing her very memory. Could he not keep the material
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possessions as a tribute to her greatness? Though they would never more share the same breathe could he
not keep simple reminders of her existence? No! She was gone and dead and was never to return.
Keeping any reminders of her was only stupid and could only serve to hurt him. No one could ever know
of the affair. Everything must go.
He paused. Everything except one thing. Getting down on one knee he lowered himself to view
under the work bench. Setting the brown box at his side he moved a pink box of kitty litter to the side
revealing the treasure hidden behind. A gift for them both he had spent far more on this than he should
have. Taking them to new highs this glass ornament had broached the gap between fling and relationship.
No longer was she a fun, frivolous little thing, but an enchanting individual whom made him think and
dream in ways never before thought possible. He experienced a happiness never before known.
Taking the ornament by the long, slender neck he lifted it to the light, feeling the liquid contents
of it’s stomach slash upon the walls as it moved. Blue glass with spots of pink, green and orange gleamed
in the light. In one fluid movement he turned it upside down, emptying the yellow stomach vile onto the
cement floor. The scent of the liquid quickly filling the confines of the room, smothering all other odors
present. Sour as a skunk and sweet as candy the smell made his lip tremble. His eyes sparkled with
access water buildup. Standing two and a half feet tall this one symbol was the hardest to hide, and the
most likely to be found. If he kept it it would be the equivalent of harboring the actual body if found by
Lilly. The last sign of her impact in his life, it too must go in the box. Though dead to him now, her
memory would live on. No other person had affected his personality, no, his life as dramatically as she.
Her ashes were thrown carelessly all over the floor. Some soaking into the oil spots, others
finding crevices in which to nestle, most were left scattered in clumps upon the cement. Rising with the
brown box at his side he moved towards the opposite wall and pushed a glowing square button which
threw the metal shutters into action. With loud screams of protest, the metal gears began grinding rolling
the shutters inward towards the ceiling. Gusts of wind from the outside rushed inward sweeping her ashes
in little circles out into the day.
Holding the brown box at his side he walked toward her final resting place at the curve. Both the
brown box and it’s contents he dumped into the green bin at the end of the drive. He flinched as he heard
the glass ornament shatter within the belly of the beast. The sound signaling the point of no return. Every
trace of her had been stripped away, there was proof no more that she had ever visited him here. Inhaling
deeply for need of air he closed the plastic lid upon her burying all physical evidence of her existence.
Wishing there were another way Henry turned and walked back towards the cement room with the
glowing button. Without looking back Henry pushed the glowing button that sent the metal shutters into
action again. Rattling loudly they descended slowly hiding Henry’s view of the green bin at the curve, at
the end of the drive with the contents of his former love. As the shutters reached the floor closing the
door to the outside world, Henry Martin thus ended his long affair with Mary Jane.
