Strain the Bond
It began with the big bang that never came. Before that
only anger and frustration. Together, like flint against steel, they ignited many smaller explosions:
The smashing of a door against its frame,
a frightening sound that harmonized with knuckles cracking against a wall. There were many tiny collisions between particles as sound waves passed through them. Those particles carried
questions and accusations, addressed to a girl who was too far away to hear their message. All the same, they carried cursed words, from pursed lips; words which shook the atoms that held the roof up, those atoms passing along the vibrations, playing a subatomic game of telephone.
Perhaps the vibrations even reached those atoms nearest the accused, but by then, these atoms had long ago forgotten their message. By then, it was nothing but a pitiful wave, lost in a sea of particles.
I knew this. My tirade endured.
I grabbed my phone—I had to reach out to someone, anyone, had to let them know what had happened. I needed help—but from who? I looked back to the door. My friends were downstairs, or would be soon—couldn’t I talk to them? No. I was alone. Time had taught me that lesson well enough, so the phone found a new home, briefly attending a showing against the wall before settling down in pieces upon my bed.
The room spun. My balance tipped like the scales of the dead, my heart so heavy that the scale toppled over and sent feathers flying across my vision. Through this haze, I saw my room in disarray. This compounded my anger: how could my room have the audacity to be dirty in the presence of such a wrathful spirit?
My feet pounded against the floor and, emerging from my fugue state, I confronted my cluttered desk. It was time for a clean slate, both figuratively and literally, so I slammed my hand upon the table and swept it violently across. My eyes were shut and my ears rang with the sound of my own vengeful, punitive voice, so much so that it was almost deafening. Then it happened.
As the objects left my desk, there was a sudden shift. For an instant, my screams actually deafened me. Or so it seemed, although in retrospect it felt more like silence had replaced everything, even the air in my lungs.
That was the beginning. That was the big bang that never came.