Excerpt from 'Cut' by Kathleen Mareé
He raises his hand through his tousled hair like he’s trying to find the right words, but his thoughts appear to be restricting him. Not being able to look at him any longer I turn back toward the street trying to signal a taxi when I feel his ice cold, yet delicate touch stroke my outstretched wrist. He tugs at it ever so slightly, guiding it down to my side and takes a subtle step towards me until his chest brushes my back softly. His lips barely brushing my hair as I feel his dangerous breath move the strands like they sway on a breezy day.
"Please don’t go yet."
His voice cuts through me, right to the core and I stand motionless not wanting to move at all. I don’t turn my body - only my eyes as I tentatively look up at him from over my shoulder. As honestly as I can manage without completely falling apart around him I tenderly whisper.
I take a deep breath and muster as much strength as I can. Without further analysing, I raise my hand from underneath his sensitive touch and signal the oncoming taxi, and within seconds the car pulls abruptly into the kerb. I reach dramatically for the door handle swinging it open emotionally, and before I leap into the cab I turn to look at him once more.
"I’m sorry," I mutter before getting in.
"141 Harper Street, Annandale please," I retort to the driver, and as the car pulls back into the street all I can do is stare at his motionless body as we drive away. As soon as he is out of my sight the tears that seem to permanently hover just under the surface can’t be held back anymore.
They flow uncontrollably.