by johannespunkt

One day, without warning, I put a lit cigarette into her eye. The air is perfectly immobile and the only sounds are the sizzle from the cigarette, and a half-swallowed cry far back in her throat.

I stop smoking and I pack my bags to go far away, but my train ticket disappears.

“I want you to stay,” she says.

“What if I hurt you again?”

“Do you plan to?”

“No, that is why I’m leaving.”

“So stay. Unless your guilt is more important to you than my feelings. I forgive you.”

She loves me just as playfully as before.