Monika

It couldn't have been me. See, the direction the spackle protrudes. A noisy neighbour? An angry boyfriend? I'll never know. I wasn't home. I peer inside for a clue. No! I can't see. I reel, blind, like a film left out in the sun. But it's too late. My retinas. Already scorched with a permanent copy of the meaningless image. Just a little hole. It wasn't too bright. It was too deep. Stretching forever into everything. A hole of infinite choises. I realize now, that i wasn't looking in. I was looking out. And he, on the other side, was looking in.