I love the steel that caresses me. It's so cold and dangerous. He likes to rub it all over my body, letting the cold blade stroke every inch. It turns me on like a tea kettle going off.
Bzzt. Static.
"Hello?"
"Hey it's your sister, can you buzz me up?"
Bzzt. Knock knock knock.
"Merry Christmas!"
"Betty, you know I don't celebrate Christmas."
"But I do, so take this present out of my hands before I leave your atheist ass alone like the rest of the family."
"Thanks."
"So this is your new apartment, huh? It's pretty bare."
"I don't need much. Just a chair and a bed. And my box of books."
"Such a nice view of the city. Especially with all the snow on the top of the buildings."
"Yeah it's pretty-"
"Just like when we were young. We'd visit Uncle Wright and he'd show us his view of the city. It was magical back then."
"Back then it was a dream world. It wasn't real."
"I wish you'd at least come say hi to mom and dad. They're here for the week. Staying at my place."
"I'll make sure to avoid it then."
"Because you came over so often."
The cold air hitting my skin makes the hair on my arms stand to attention. I can feel it caress me, as droplets of ice fall and hit my face. The blade sits beside me, and he sits across the way watching me.
Car door shutting.
"Merry- oh, hey. Sorry, I didn't see it was you."
"Peggy, you can wish me a merry Christmas, it's OK."
"Well, um- yeah. Yeah I know, I just- I don't know what to do around you to be honest. I've never met an atheist who doesn't celebrate Christmas."
"You've probably never met one that's been alienated by their family either."
"So, what do you do on Christmas then?"
"Sleep in."
"Well, I would invite you to my house if you'd-"
"No. I'm not going over to your house, Peggy. We're co-workers and that's too personal. Besides, your husband may think I'm hitting on you."
"Oh trust me, he knows you're not hitting on me. He knows, if you know what I mean."
Below the cars are rolling. They look like ants, moving the snow around. I can hear the horns honking, a faded bit of music. My hand is in my pocket, and I can feel the picture sitting there. Crumpled.
"Yes, I understand. Is there any way I can pay for it later? Well, I don't make a lot of money and he-...yes I see."
Knock knock knock.
"Well, the fu-"
"Hi, you're the one selling the bed?"
"Yeah, it's in the bedroom."
"Cool, thanks."
"I just don't understand why it cost all this money. Well can't you look into your heart and give me some more time? I know, I know I've had six months. I know that, but I just...he was my...I mean...you understand, don't you?...yes, a few more weeks. Thank you."
Dial tone.
"So this bed? You want how much for it?"
The blade was sharp and cold. He stood behind me, reminding me of that night. Reminding me of what I am and what I lost. Holding the blade up to my face, and turning me into butter. Just like butter. If only I wasn't red.
