It was there. I swear it was. It was coiled tightly, ready to spring just under my skin; it was tensed and prepared to unleash all over her face, all over her body, to shed her, knock into her, head-butt her straight in the throat for being so—

--so—

--I don’t even know.

*"I'm only in your face like this because you're much, much shorter than I am."*

Those weren’t her lines!

She was supposed to say something like “make me” or “who cares” or something, something, something else to needle me, a smoking gun in the race, words to spark me in action, a short, quick blaze to a fuse just begging to be lit.

She wasn’t supposed to…to…explain herself in this vanilla voice, all matter-of-fact and blunt and innocent like it was. Cuz it’s…not like she was wrong. I was short. And I could look at her easier without cranking my neck like I had been and pulling a muscle and probably cramping myself up for later—

--but no, no, no! That’s not what was supposed to happen! We were supposed to go to blows and I was supposed to blow through her skinny ass and teach her better than to talk like a smart-ass with me--

--and I snorted, indignant with her words, very clearly aware that I was getting pissed over nothing at this point. “I can see you just fine!!” I snapped at her, screeching much too loud in the cavernous space, “SHIT!” My voice bounced back at me from a thousand different directions—off of walls, off of little shards that lay scattered at our feet, glinting dully with both a living and a dead light faded from their cores.

*"No. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you are going to help me clean this up.”*

There, there, that’s a smoking gun isn’t it, that’s her asking for a beat-down—that’s my cue, my signal, my excuse--

*”This matters, regardless of whether or not you can see it. We are going to put it back."*

And then, so suddenly it had to have been fate’s doing, she said words that stopped me dead.

It was a turmoil that was almost physical. Actually, it was physical; I grit my teeth and I clenched my eyes shut and I growled in the back of my throat “Hnnnnnnrgh” that grew in my throat steadily into an “AARRGHGH” as I flailed my head from side to side, the whole of my insides doing battle and going to blows in my stomach--

Cuz I wanted to fight her. I wanted to fight her. I wanted her gone, I wanted her judgement out of my life, I wanted her away from me and I wanted her voice washed out of my ear and her scent washed out of my nose and the image of her metallic eyes washed out of my sight—

--I wanted her far, far away, unseen and eventually forgotten, the lost reminder of the ultimate mistake—

--I wanted to crush her and all that she meant (balance lost and regained, a murderous goddess, some other rape some other rape some other rape)

Faux-to-to.

just wanted to unload on her smug, academic ass and be done with it all her once and for all.


….but I couldn’t.

This matters, regardless of whether or not you can see it. We are going to put it back.

Shards of stones I had ruined in my despair.

We are going to put them back.

I had cried over Toto’s passing finally. And now it was time to clean up the
remains of my deranged, aimless sorrow and set this shit to its final rest.

I was going to help her do it.

Toto’s replac--

--Faux-to-to--

…someone who’s name I didn’t even know.

“FINE!” I bellowed into her face, way too loud, much too torn up, “Fine, fine, I didn’t even mean to do it in the first place, it just happened, it just—“ It flew from my lips in a flurry, all ragged and too angry and slightly desperate, until I finally snorted and stomped my hoof and looked her in the eye again. “There. There. Is that what you wanted? Are you happy now? I’ll fix the shit with you if you just leave me alone after.”



"talk"

Quit Hollerin' "Why God?", he ain't got shit to do with it.