Breaking Up

Some women deal with their break-ups by drinking wine, some surround themselves with friends and plot how they’re going to let the air out of their ex’s tires. Me, I’m celebrating with a giant bag of Doritos, a bottle of Coke, and a horror movie.

Jeremy was not a nice guy. He started out okay, as most guys do. Why else would I have dated him in the first place? But as time went on he started in with the digs about my weight. We’d be in bed and he’d squeeze my hips and say things like, “That must be the pizza we had tonight,” or “Have you been sneaking chocolate bars again?” I ignored it for the longest time. But eventually it wears on a gal.

Nope, I’m glad Jeremy’s gone. And now I can sit here with my Doritos and not have to deal with the insults. The fact that I burned off a load of calories burying his body in the back yard makes me feel all that much better.


I feel them as they approach, long before I see them. The dust from the road beneath the lone streetlight swirls around me. Will the angel that comes for me tonight be dark, or of the light?

I look up even though I know it’s useless. When I squint, a halo appears around the bulb above me, in all the colours of the rainbow.

Before long, I pick up the scent. Sulfur. The angel is dark.

He lands some distance away. Finally he steps into the ring of light on the pavement; he saunters toward me. His black wings folded loosely behind him, he wears all white, as though that will absolve him. We both know his clothes will soon be drenched in my blood.

“Hello,” he says with a smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I reply.

I hand him the sword and he studies it for a moment. “Your weapons are getting bigger,” he muses, speaking to me as he looks at the blade.

“The stakes are getting higher. I suppose your rival will be here tomorrow to clean up the mess.”

“You prefer it that way?”

“I think so.”

“He believes he’s mastered the art of protection.”

I nod. “Now he needs to work on his healing.”

“Let’s give him something to work on then.”

I’m aroused at his first slice down my cheek. Tonight will prove to be orgasmic. A little death, indeed.