The End of the Road

-Do you wanna do this with me?
She doesn't. She's done enough. She doesn't know what else to do with me. It's like this is all we have ever done together. She doesn't even look up. Just rides the lines with her eyes. Her pupils already eclipse her irises.
-You don't have to.
She's all hypnotized. Everything we have left ground and racked into two parallel trails. Like double white lines on a highway. This is the end of the road.

I reach over the double white lines and place my hand over hers, limp on the table's edge. I realize how clammy mine is when I feel the back of hers. Somehow she's still so smooth after everything. I realize how un-comforting this is. So does she. She slips her child's hand out and away from mine. Leaving mine vacant. I feel like a mime artist. Still following the double white lines up and down, she picks up two fivers, rolled-up, loose and used. She flicks one at me. It lands with a paper clatter before me. With her left, she holds hers at either end with her index and thumb. With her right she pulls the end of the note to tighten it. I taught her that. Now I copy her.

The end of the rollies linger around the edges of our nostrils. In unison, our heads descend towards the road. Our foreheads leaning against each other's. Her eyes are still fixated upon it. Mine are still fixated upon her. I want to cry I want to scream I want to sweep it all from the table I want to save our minds I want to save her. I look down. The road is so long that the end of it is blurred. I follow it up. What is below my nose is a blur and the distance is now clear.

The End of the Road

-I love you.
-Three, two, one...
It begins. A sound as natural to me as blood in my ears. A rush, a surge, a sting which is warm and worth what it will bring. Up our hollowed caverns. Blurring and stimulating our brains. Like a leak in a pipe, there comes the the chemical drip at the back of the throat. Halfway. Drips join, becomes a stream, flowing to the belly, vibrating, exciting. It's not chemical anymore. It's not physical anymore. Now it's energy. Now it's fire surging from my heart to the every edge of my body and out and into her and into me again. To last until the end of the line, the end of the road. Done.

We sit up. Jolt, gasp, our eyes are bound. Her eyes wider. A drop of blood -a red teardrop - begins to peak from her nose.
-My God I love you.
I believe her, but I don't know who's talking.