There is no motion and yet you step forward. The night is so quiet. You are not accustomed to it. The city bred you to expect sirens and blaring horns. The sound of lovers arguments in the night was something you learned to sleep through. Arguments always heating up and shrill voices bashing against your closed windows before coming inside. You never expected life to be anything else. You always knew that no matter where you went, the voices, sirens and screams would find their way into your ear canal like a subway train firing sparks into your brain. That was why you came out here. To seek and never find peace of mind.
nothing but silence
There is an audible glow off in the distance. Only because of the silence. You feel your own nakedness even though you are wearing a flannel nightgown you bought from anywhere but Victoria's Secret. That would be giving Billy too much and Billy doesn't deserve much of anything any more.
if this was a car you could drive
The box you brought with you from the city is sitting open on the kitchen table. These are the things that are most precious to you and now you fear Billy has stumbled upon your secrets. He has no right. This was meant to be a passage, not a destination. He is stealing your soul, draining away your desire to be happy. Every time his fat ugly fingers trace circles around the breasts you are less than satisfied with, you cringe. He would never understand how little his touch really means to you. Billy should learn to keep his hands to himself. He's never learned how to use them for anything other than working that damned machine he stands behind for eight hours a day.
the light of memory is turned on once more
You try to close the box but the light gently caresses your eyes. Everything feels so different. Before you can fold over the first flap, you see Mister Evermore. That big elephant nose of his always made you feel less inadequate about your less than sparkling features. That coat of blue fur made you worry less about the homemade outfits mom made you wear to school. Mister Evermore used to sleep on the pillow with you every night. He was a much better companion than Billy ever was. Mister Evermore had a softer touch and knew when to shut up and listen.
There are other things in the box you thought you had forgotten. A seashell from the summer you spent with your aunt and uncle in Maine because your parents were in the midst of an unpleasant divorce. The photograph grandma took of you crying in the sandbox. The postcard your brother sent the day before he disappeared forever. The necklace that shy boy in the sixth grade had given you because he had a crush on you. You still smile when you remember how he turned red and ran away after giving you the box. It came from a drug store and probably cost no more than four dollars, but it was still the piece of jewelry that touched your heart the most.
shelter from the storm
Billy rolls out of bed and stomps his way into the bathroom. He stands there in front of the toilet and urinates without closing the door. It is a rude way to break your silence. You thought you were accustomed to it. Mister Evermore whispers that you don't need to become accustomed to anything. Billy finishes his process and invades the kitchen. He asks you what "all that crap" is. You close the box quickly and tell him "it doesn't matter."