Common mistake.

Admit it, Asha. Do not back out now. You are transfixed by the violence brewing in your heart. You tricked yourself into thinking you were okay with this arrangement. You know you are not. Why didn’t you listen to me? Your face is like pages of painful poetry. There’s no one who will read it. Your sacrifices don’t absolve your self-entrapment. You often meet your pain on the path you take to avoid it. You are a broken, breaking key. Your juxtapositions aren’t cute anymore. 

Asha wrote in urgent, disjointed sentences. Tears were cascading down her cheek. She brushed aside an errant strand of hair.

And for what? A common mistake. What glory couldn’t bring, the mundane did. You fought yourself for too long. You cannot at once blend into the woodwork, Asha. I told you. You are too loud for that. You should have known that secrets are for ditzy teenagers. You cannot purge your consequences no more than the causes that led to the causes of these consequences. You’ve made a fool of yourself! No one can fill a bottomless pot, no one can chase a broken heart. 

There was a vague sound. The door opened. He was standing. Breathing deeply and quickly. She turned around and regarded him; tears wiped and replaced with a practiced, inviting smile. 

You are going to let him undress you. He will cup your breasts, stroking them gently with his calloused fingers. You will moan and fumble with his zipper. He will help you and you will undo his buttons meanwhile. He will flip you over, shove your knees forward towards your face, and bury his face in you. You will let him. He will think you are ready, turn you back around, this time pushing your knees almost right into your ribcage, hurting you in the process. You will let him. You will goad him by gyrating, by groping, by making all the right noises. You will grapple at him, then feeling the throb, you will coax him, cajole him, and knead him into you. He will let you.

Asha tidied her hair, tactfully hid the bump, took her share from the Boss-lady, and walked back into a flood of sunlight. A common day for a common mistake.