Red Red Eyes

by Christina Osborne

Red red eyes

In a far away land, it seems like years ago. I used to wake up to the radiant glow of your body.

I’d lie, wake up, ever the morning person. I’d gently slip out of bed and you would pretend to be unaware of my presence.

I can still see you in the floral chair, the cat on your lap. A morning kiss. Like the sun on morning dew. A promise of things to come.

You would have a slow start, and then burst into life when it was time to leave. Boots laced, dog on leash, enthusiastically waiting.

Walking, walking, walking until our legs were sore and our feet blistered. Coffee, holding hands, and then off again. You in front, scowling at me as I stopped to take a photograph with my silver camera.

Back home. That warm and welcoming fragrance that hit as we entered. You made the old lady’s house beautiful.

I didn’t see you slipping away, spirit broken.

Reinvented, alone.

Retribution. Harm. Dignity. Mistrust. Price. Revenge.

Accusations and lies.

Red, red eyes.

You might also be interested in “The Lighthouse”. See https://chrissy.lgbt/2023/10/07/the-lighthouse/