Tabula Rasa

Two disbanded souls caught in a moment of chronic disappointment, further exacerbated by the vehicular failure that has fallen upon them. We descend. “I don’t believe this. We’ve barely driven 100 miles. Why did I let that cowboy trick me into buying this piece-of-shit tin can?” “Because you wanna sleep with him, that’s why.” “For the last fucking time, I do not want to sleep with the used car salesman who uses Vaseline to keep his moustache curls in place.” “You seem to know an awful lot about the state of his moustache.” Tense and turgid snipes, aiming to destroy their delicate footbridge underfoot. Compassion and forgiving patience, why can’t these be mustered? They must alter their direction, they are breaking. “Can you believe we’re stuck out here?” “We could be out here a while - not a sign of life anywhere, and another car hasn’t passed us for at least an hour.” “Shit. My head hurts.” “Want me to pass you anything?” “Just some water.” “Here. You know, your eyes look really nice in this light.” “You mean night time when there is no light?” “No! I mean this light that’s here, right this second. Dusk. Twilight. Whatever you want to call it. When the sun has dipped low enough behind the mountains that the sky is no longer red, not yet moonlit blue, but tinged with this dusty, otherworldly purple. It’s the light of in-between. It picks up all the flecks of colour around your pupils and makes them look really beautiful.” “I’m trying so hard not to roll my eyes.” “Come on, I’m trying.” A breakthrough. A moment of sweet, vulnerable truth that has torn a brick from the impenetrable wall. A gentle meander that points them toward True North. Now gallop, canter, blast off to reconciliation. “Sorry. You know, when we first decided to leave home I didn’t think it would actually happen. I thought you would run, or I would run, or some monumental disaster of nature would tear the world apart and no trace of either one of us would be left behind. But that didn’t happen. We stayed with each other and we did leave home. I never thought I would find another human being who would want to leave, but here you are. Here we are. Together.” “Yeah, that’s fate, or whatever they call it.” “Whatever it is, it feels foreign. In the beginning I was petrified, but I stayed, I tried, and suddenly I was full of this ravenous eagerness.” “And now?” “Now, I just feel -.” “Hey, hold on. I see headlights.” Close. A hair away from the truth. A word on the tongue savagely denied freedom. The moment is done and they are shattered. They were breaking, now they are well and truly shattered. Another scorched plane that couldn't be saved from fire. Is this what they call anti-mimesis? Cars spluttering to stops. Lives spluttering to splinters. We have failed once more. We must move on. We must try again. Elsewhere.