"Pink, Purple Horizon"...

Her nagging words like a butchers knife piercing smoothly without resistance into the swollen belly of a pumped and skinned cow hit me so bad I was lost for words. I was feeling what every senseless husband who beats the sound out of his wife’s mouth feels when he strikes her. The cause of our argument was the mere fact that I hardly give her any attention anymore. To her, my blackberry had become my solace, my life, my wife. She described graphically the way I get to hold on to my baby as she calls it, caressing it like an interior decorator who finally finds the shade of purple she had been looking for all over Dubai, kissing it like a virgin girl who just got married and is enjoying the moment in the arms of her husband in their hotel room in Paris where they were having their honeymoon, wiping the screen every 10 seconds like someone who has CLEANING SCREEN DISORDER (if there is anything like that). Why in the world was she saying all these nasty things I think to myself looking at dramatic gesticulations and wide openings of her mouth. I had tried to be the best guy she had ever met in her life. I never gave her cause to believe that my propositions of love to her weren’t real but came from the buttocks of my reddened young heart. She keeps on going like a typewriter, like the finger of a concert pianist at the opera, like clippings’ of spectators when the star of a football match is being substituted. The more she goes on the more vexed I become. My black skin begins to redden, heat from nowhere creeps through my skin, from my toes, to my legs which begin to vibrate for no good reason, to my belly, causing me to wince a bit and then concentrates on my face. The redness of my face, intensifies and one can practically see the snake like traces of veins on my fore head, my jawline and my neck. I don’t know what she is talking about. Is she trying to look for faults in me, is she tired of the relationship or has she found some other guy or what. The cells in my brain begin to riot against the pumping of the blood through the veins. I can practically hear the “we no go gree” chants of the cells protesting with placards all over my dark skull city. And then a pink flash comes in through the window before the stream gets my attention. I look over her head, concentrating, trying to figure out what in the world could be the cause. Before long her naggings become inaudible to me. It feels like I had pressed the mute button on my ears. Hmmm this really felt good. I walk towards her, toward the window and she starts stuttering. She tries to continue but the obvious fear in her eyes gives her mouth away. Tiny scared groans can be heard from her throat as her gaze is fixed on me but I don’t care. She gets to the window and is trapped. It feels like she has been bound to the window, nailed with two inches sets of nails to the wall. And then I get there and raise my hand but she ducks and goes under my hand thinking I was going to strike her in the face. I smile. I draw the curtains to the revelation of one of the most beautiful sights of nature. The “PINK, PURPLE HORIZON”. My smile widens into a grin, I could feel the rush of the blood away from my face with the mild wind blowing on my face restoring the black of my color. I can only sense what she is feeling right about now. She thinks I’ve gone crazy, nuts, gaga. Wrong again honey. I’m just basking in the cuteness of SuNsEt…