I woke up with a huge head. Not a huge headache, but a huge fucking head. The mirror doesn’t lie and I believed it. The mirror placed right in front of my bed was the perfect foil to the reverse cowgirl. I sat upright on the memory foam mattress and looked on. My hair looked fine, my hairline like that of a 13 year old’s. My eyes looked like they always do. Red capillaries networked the white of my eye like a hundred bitches circling a circle shaped piece of bloody brown meat. Ears sticking out. The Jaw-line would put Clark Kent to shame. But then it was the whole head that just looked oddly huge. Why? No fucking clue. I only hope it shrinks back to its normal size before I fuck Arya again tonight.
Arya. I was sitting next to the naked body of the woman I loved. She lay there dreaming. Goose bumps appeared on the tender skin below her neck and then her arms. And then they vanished in slo-mo, like a thousand setting suns. She always told me she was a figment of my imagination. She said that again right after I came inside her last night. “I am zero. I am infinite. I don’t exist. You imagine me. I love you.” Then she wept. Then she fell asleep. Her wet hips shone against the red light of Mars that leaked in through a gap in the curtains. She smells familiar. She smells of me. Her smell had never registered in my brain before, and now that it did, it’s mine. She thinks she doesn’t exist. But the goose bumps? Is my imagination really that vivid? She thinks she doesn’t exist. But I’m sure she does. The water ripples along her wake when she swims. I feel it against my body when I swim with her.
We’re sipping coffee at a café. Drizzle outside. It’s Noon.
No. We’re standing next to a carousel. It’s 5pm.
No. We are skipping stones by the lake. Yes. The pink and orange of the setting Sun filled the sky. The Sun was not be found though. The lake seems familiar. A large colony of flamingos by the shore matched the color of the sky. All of them stood on one leg for reasons known best to them.
But what just happened? We were in my bed moments ago, then a café, then a carousel and now a lake. But the lake stayed.
“Arya, what happened? We were in bed. I.. I don’t understand.”
She smiled, her eyes betraying a tired sadness, “You can teleport. You Imagine people and make them happen. You imagine places and bring them where you are. You twist time and space like clay. Einstein died of a heart attack after he met you.” She chuckled, pleased with her silly joke.
She is a twisted mystery I could never decipher. But she looked at me like she had me all figured out. I looked back at her.
“What happened between then and now? Did you live through the timeline in regular fashion or your head’s a bad editor too? Or is this how time behaves these days?”
“A little friend made you God. We had eggs and bagels for breakfast. We showered together. Time isn’t misbehaving. We went for a swim. Then the café. I do not exist. You had both the Lattes.”
“A little friend?”
“Yes. That and you.”
“Will I remember this? THIS.”
“May be. May be not. If I make you orgasm now, you definitely would. You never forget the moment when you come. Rest is erratic.”
She leaned in and kissed, her warm tongue gently pressing against mine. I grabbed her by her butt and lifted her to make her sit on my lap, facing me. We stripped and made love while the flamingos watched. She smelt of the lake.