Back, then forth. Forth, then back, then forth again, but always back.
Past grunted from his chair. “Would you be still, woman? You're giving my neck a cramp.”
She tripped over the tossed aftershave bottle, and stared at it with such intensity that it began to melt, then disappeared altogether. “What time is it?” she demanded, still staring at the spot where the bottle used to be.
“Aren't you tricky,” he quipped, clearly enjoying the froth she had whipped up beneath her feet and inside her head and heart. He pointed to the faceless watch strapped to his fat wrist. “You know I can't tell time.”
The floor began to rumble with a deep, guttural noise that appeared to be emanating from her past's lap. In it lay the red memory book, which was now erupting with tiny golden orbs of sparkly light. Past lifted a monolithic arm and waved the orbs, and the noise, out of the window.
“What are you doing?” she cried, running to see where he had sent them.
There on the street, circled in gold, was the blonde boy from the book dismounting a motorcycle. He was taller than she remembered, and as he removed his helmet, she saw that his head was shaven clean and soft and though they were still that clear, impossible blue that one cannot see and remain unaffected, his eyes were now somehow deeper—darker—like his black clothing.
She turned to her past, who held a mirror, and in that mirror she saw her red-brown eyes were just as deep, and just as dark, as was her own black clothing, and after a moment she realized she was peering at the boy's face and her own at the same time, and that she could not tell the difference.
“Why have you done this to me?” she cried, snatching the mirror from her past. The mirror's sharp edge cut her slightly, and she dropped it to the ground. Three drops of hot, red-gold blood fell onto her face's reflection as she stared down: one on her forehead, one between her eyes, and one on her lips right at the place where they parted slightly.
“Go and meet your fate,” said her past, and as she descended the stairs she tried to will and swallow the metallic aftertaste of blood away.
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