CD Number: 2
Track Number: 26
Song: “Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year” by Fall Out Boy from the album Under the Cork Tree
He sat in the twilight, measuring out the fluid precisely into each of the drums. As he went about his task, he hummed tunelessly, entirely unaware he was making any noise at all. In his mind, he only had two focuses: the correct ratio of chemicals for maximum heat and her.
She was, after all, the reason for all of this. Fire was not his preferred medium. No, that would be poisons. Exotic concoctions that made it clear a person had been killed without making it clear who or what had done the killing. But for her, he would forgo that.
Instead, he chose fire. As a way to honor her. The first thing that caught his eye was her hair, dyed a shocking shade of red with blonde roots showing through. It was just like a flame, tendrils tipped with red, wrapped around yellow centers, flicking this way and that. Messy, yet impeccably patterned.
Also, it was simply a better way to accomplish what he was setting out to do. A bold declaration of his infatuation for her. How better to let her know that he was utterly dedicated to her, overwhelming smitten then by protecting those that were or would take advantage of her. The landlord who didn’t seem to understand how hard it was to make it as a recent college graduate in this economy. The ex who wanted to use her for his own satisfaction but ignored her emotional needs. The boss who demanded more and more without paying more and more. All of them! The careless, the heartless, the crude, and the cruel. But they were so spread out, across the city. If he did things the usual way, the artful way, it would take forever. And it would be sloppy. At some point, someone would notice that common element was her and he had no desire to see her harassed or arrested for his compositions.
So he needed something fast, lethal, and indiscriminant to consume them. Yes, there would be others who would be hurt and killed. He resigned himself to this. If he could’ve avoided it, he would’ve. But alas, there was nothing to be done for it. Additionally, he told himself, the city was filled with would-be victimizers so many of those unconnected but consumed could’ve been future destroyers of her soul. He was simply being proactive on her behalf.
And when the fire was done and he released her from the protective space he made sure she would be secured in, she would see all he had done for her, for them, and understand. And love him as he loved her. Of this he was sure.
So, what do you think? Enjoy it? If so, feel free to follow me on Twitter (@UnGajje) for various bon mots and links directing you to the newest updates on this site as well as my other various writing gigs (Marvel, Complaint of the Week at the Living Room Times, and New Paris Press, set to debut shortly although information may be available before then here). If not it was not so enjoyable for you, feel free to tell me that too. And still check me out at all those things above. One of them you are bound to like more.
Feedback or questions? Offer them up here or drop me a note at the aforementioned Twitter account, tim[dot]g[dot]stevens[at]gmail[dot]com or Facebook.