You think you can give the topic fire and brimstone and me not use something about my devil?
The following revised and edited for this challenge is a scene that will never appear in print.
My friend Deb called and asked about the new guy in my life.
“And what does he do?”
Well I couldn’t tell her what he does—“Oh he collects souls for the devil and sends them to Hell.” No I don’t think so. I said he’s in mid management in a large corporation— well it’s kinda the truth. Luckily she was more interested in talking about her woes so it wasn’t a problem. But as the conversation went on, I heard the anger build up in my voice until finally she let me go. He wasn’t home. Working. Of course. The conversation kept running around in my head and I finally dropped off to sleep around three in the morning.. Sometimes I think he’s just like all the other losers in my life. Work, work, work.
By the time he finally got home the next day a tornado raged in my insides. . He got in the door, hung up his coat and looked at me sitting like a dead brick on the couch.
“Uh oh I smell rotten eggs. What are you angry about?”
I lost it. “Yes I’m angry! Last night Deb called and I couldn’t tell her what you do, have to keep that little secret don’t I? And I’ve been steaming ever since. I hate it, this secret keeping. You and I don’t have any secrets. I only have a secret from the rest of the world.”
It was our first fight. Like the proverbial straw on the camel’s back, the stress of keeping his secret and not able to see him as often as I wished, because of his ‘job’, really got to me.
I went on and on that, “There’s no point in me trying to help you regain your humanity; wasn’t gonna happen. You’re just like all the other guys I’ve ever dated. I don’t know what I’m doing with you. I should leave. I wish I never saw that accident scene. That was certainly a bellwether day.”
He, as usual, remained calm. I’ve never seen him angry and expect it’s something I don’t want to see.
“I will never get used to the awful scent of rotten eggs, which is what your anger and frustration smells like to me. It oozes from your body and I would do anything to make it go away.” He reached out to touch me but I stepped back from his arm. “I realise you do not mean what you say. Your insincerity about leaving smells like smoke from a match that has just gone out, and gives you away.”
My face felt red and blotchy, my breathing ragged and rough. I was so furious that words spewed out of my mouth on their own volition.
“Your job comes first, it always will and it has to be that way. I’m not sure I even believe you about the punishment.”
“Trust me it is true and not something I want to test. There are rumours about the sweatshops of hell.”
Not looking at me, he started to fidget and his eyes roved around the room– from the window to the couch and TV and back again—the subject made him very nervous and paranoid.
“And that smell, mixed with the rotten egg smell, is worse than fire and brimstone.” He said almost as an afterthought.
Boy am I glad I can’t smell myself– yuk
“It really burns my butt that you can smell my emotions and it’s impossible to hide anything from you. So, okay, you know I don’t mean it about leaving you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And propinquity brings us even closer. I finally took a risk in my life and turns out to be with a man who works for the devil. How weird is that?”
And then I hit him. Picture it. I beat my fists on his chest, which is really funny, me this little bit of a woman under 5’ tall beating up this muscular man who works for the devil. The entire scene was quite absurd, but oddly it did make me feel better to vent my anger.
Humour always saves us in the end. ”You are beating me up? An agent for the devil. Maybe think on this for a minute.” I looked at his brows raised in amusement and I burst out laughing, flowed into his arms… and the rest of the scene is X rated.
Blogophilia week 15.5 – “Fire and Brimstone”
(Hard, 2pts): use the word ‘Propinquity’
(Easy, 1pt): include a bellwether