monica

monica is my best friend and i have loved her secretly since middle school. “i’m not a big meat eater but i do love fish,” she often says. at this moment she is holding my head about three inches from the sidewalk. i don’t feel afraid because i trust her completely. i am just curious what will happen next. monica rams my head into the concrete and i feel a brief surge of indescribable pain before losing consciousness as the left side of my skull crumples.

several months later i am leaving the hospital after a miracle recovery. i am still under the influence of painkiller drugs and my thoughts and vision are hazy. i walk into a park. the grass is wet but the sun is shining and it’s burning hot. people are wearing clothes of all different colors. many are completely naked. in the field, there is some kind of dance performance going on. eight or nine naked women are rolling in the grass, laughing and screaming. they form a tangled heap, breasts and legs jutting out at every angle.

a police officer touches my shoulder. he tells me he’s been informed that my gaze was making some of the performers uncomfortable.

in court the judge says that as it’s the first time i’ve committed an offense of this kind, i will not be sentenced to time in prison. however, i will be confined to my home for the next two years and my name will go on a public registry. it may be difficult for me to find work, but there are certain programs i can apply to for assistance.

four years later she sends me a message saying she loves me and she always loved me and she’s sorry for what happened. i can’t think what to say. then my phone battery dies, and i can’t find the charging cable.