Chapter Five

David Raferty lay in bed while the lightening storm blew heavy droplets of wind-driven rain against the window. His eyelids squeezed closed as tightly as possible, as if his mind would seep out through the sockets if he let up even a little.

The pupils moved under the lids like marbles, back and forth, searching the darkness. It was a troublesome and exhaustive sleep bringing perspiration to his brow, moistening his curly hair and dampening the pillow.

His fingers pulled at the sheets, forming fists, tight and white knuckled. His mind blurred, suspended in blackness as he endured a strange tumbling sensation–like a human cartwheel-falling through space. His mouth opened, bellowing a scream that followed through the darkness.

Then he saw the light. It grew in his subconscious from a mere shadow to a blistering white that burst as though he emerged from the earth’s bowels to daylight. When his eyes opened, Joanne was beside him wearing her favorite mint green nightshirt. It covered most of her torso but the dislodged bed sheet exposed one creamy thigh and leg.

His eyes followed his wife’s lean form down over the knee past the shin to the painted toenails. He was happy lying next to her in the comfort of the warm bed, listening to the torrential downpour, and her breathing.

Thunderous detonations boomed near, causing pictures on the wall to rattle. Joanne mumbled something incoherent then returned to her dream. He watched her breathe for some time, her breast rising and falling mechanically. Her lips slightly parted, her eyes void of pain, loneliness, or worry.

The passion he held for her moved through him, arousing desire, tingling…He rolled onto his side, bracing his head with the palm of his hand, the other reached to touch her softness and caress his young wife’s creamy flesh. The scent of her hair drifted into his nostrils; clean with a tinge of raspberry aloe. She was so close he dared to run his fingers through it and watch the velvety way the hair dropped back into place, but his hand stopped inches from her. He could not proceed, could not go closer.

Joanne sighed and slowly turned onto her side, eyelids still closed comfortably, breathing rhythmic and calm. One arm folded under her pillow, the other by her side near the knee. She was so beautiful. David smiled. He missed her. Joanne’s eyes fluttered open. They gazed briefly into each other’s souls until she realized she had awakened. Lightning flashed by the window, illuminating the room.

“Jesus Christ!” She leaped from the bed, her legs caught in the sheet, causing her to roll off the side of the mattress. She stood quickly, frightened and confused.

“Joanne…” His hand reached out to her. She took a step back, away from the bed, her hands together under her chin.

“No, it can’t be.” She forced the words from her parched throat and fell to her knees, tears streaming across her cheeks. Another loud boom of thunder concealed her scream.

David was beside himself; she was so close it was surreal. If only he could touch her and kiss her, make love to her again. Then it began, as it always did.

The soft edges of Joanne’s figure turned gritty, abrasive, almost metallic, like so many pixels forming a photograph. Her arms blurred then dissolved, falling apart like a broken jigsaw puzzle, followed by her torso and breasts bobbing freely under the fading nightshirt.

Her entire image dissolved like a sugar cube in hot coffee, then the furniture, the bed, the sheets, walls and ceiling.

David cried out, “No, damn it, no!”

He was back in the black void, outstretched like a cartwheel. He watched his feet dissolve. The flesh on the toes turning to paper then crinkling, everything turned to powder and vanished, flesh, bone, blood, sinew.

His memory was on full throttle, careening out of control, running rampant, sending images across the screen in his mind of things remembered. Images like burnt film on fast forward fluttered for him to recall. A farm house, him climbing a cliff, him running through a forest, a priest, a cemetery, a little girl and a kite, a police car, a grave and an explosion and…and…then it was gone.

The Unclear pictures also dissolved, leaving his memory blank. His face began to melt, his eyeballs dried like prunes turning to dust. He tried to scream through a collapsed throat and then awoke, on a bus.