SOAP SCUM: 42. 

It was only a matter of minutes before every toxin in my body surfaced through my pores into the earthy cedary musk of the tiny wooden box I sat in stewing over a fucking lobster. There was more to it than that, though. Where did Eve get off pulling a stunt like that and blatantly lying so effortlessly about it?

And then she had the gall to eat my fucking lobster.

I left the sauna before boiling and returned to the table feeling a little more level. Eve was talking to the woman whose husband had just been resurrected.

The lobster sat across from me, ravaged in congealing pools of butter, its blistered exoskeleton splayed across the plate like arms at the last supper. I stared into its onyx pupils the size of pearls and could see my reflection. I felt small and a bit like Gregor Samsa might have when he woke up as a giant insect. The funny thing was, the more I spun, so did Eve. Perhaps we were meant for one another after all.

I ordered another drink and was halfway through it before she noticed me sitting at the table.

“Darling, I am sorry for losing my cool. I shouldn’t have exploded like that.” She said.

There were so many things I could have said, but I chose none of them. “It’s fine, love.”

“Do you still love me, Charlie?”

“Of course I do.”

Their names were Ellen and Kurt. They were from the Midwest, and I could not, for my life, find them interesting. It was more him than her. He wore a gold bracelet on both wrists and found importance in things that weren’t concrete. He probably still writes checks or pays with exact change.

He’s the type of guy who schedules a baptism thinking it’ll clear him for the afterlife. At that moment I’d wished he’d hurry up and get there.

Ellen was quiet and carried a ghost, which I liked about her. But she chose Kurt, and he is the absolute worst.

Eve invited them to our table to celebrate weddings and baptisms. Something was off about them. They didn’t fit together. I wonder if they felt the same about Eve and me.

Our honeymoon became less about us and more about impressing strangers we didn’t care for. It’s funny how things go sometimes. I couldn’t help but ask myself if this was my ever after.

The conversation became dominated by Eve and Kurt, so I kept drinking. Between alcohol and the amount of sweat I lost in the sauna, it wouldn’t be long before I was smiling.

She was infatuated with his sudden decision in life to resurrect himself. In a fucking resort pool no less.

After I drank a little more, I fell in love with Ellen and Kurt. He used to be in the same line of work as my father, so we talked about that. Eve grew quiet as I grew loud. The more she drank, the further she fell from existence, but she kept ordering pitchers of lime rickeys for the table.

Ellen reached a point where she couldn’t stop laughing. Even the ghost sitting on her shoulder snickered in her fumes.

I drank a little more until I hated them again. It’s fun finding new friends.

We outlasted every guest at the pool. Once we were the only ones left, we took off our clothes and jumped back into the water. Again, I could not see what Ellen saw in Kurt.

It felt good to be naked in the filtered ocean. It was a cleansing of sorts, but I knew I had a long way to go to be clean. I watched Eve flirting with Kurt across the pool and couldn’t help but wonder if I was just a pawn in her game.

Ellen’s ghost grew more attractive by the minute. I needed my pillow.

We kept drinking and laughing in the lights and mirrors. We played Marco Polo and played a game called Colors. The last I remember before blacking out was having chicken fights. They’re different without clothes.

It was Ellen and I against Eve and Kurt. I had zero mental capacity to understand what the hell was happening. We were playing chess without a checkered board and then everything went black.

Ellen was in bed beside me when a new day leaked through the window. Eve was on the floor with Kurt. None of us had our clothes on.

#writing #fiction