memory excerpt from an unwritten story

there is a flash of brilliant white light
and suddenly I'm somewhere

...different

surrounded by inaudible chatter
the scent of garlic and onions
string instruments playing something baroque
and the sound of porcelain clatter somewhere over my left shoulder

"so when I told jean about what had happened she just about died"

this is a restaurant
i'm in a restaurant...
how the hell am I in a restaurant?

"sara's always been kinda weird though, you know?"

seated at a table now
somewhere high end
and I'm wearing a blazer...
what in gods name is going on???

"scott, are you alright?"

a voice says
that my name is scott
is that my name?
my head hurts

i gaze across the table
and I can feel my face go pale

my god

oh my god...
it's her
from only a moment ago
from my dream
or whatever it was
only she's...

beautiful now

her long jet black hair
with its silky shine
draped down the back of her chair
and a little red rose of a hair accessory
her red halter top dress
form fitting and taut
her brown doe eyes
sparkling at me from across the table

her fork hovering just above her pasta bowl
fettuccine wrapped around it
the pointy parts protruding like
a hand cast for edward scissorhands

i stare as her facial features take on a bewildered look
her eyes fill up with concern

i break eye contact
i look down to the plate below me
i've ordered chicken kiev apparently
half eaten
with a side of mashed potatoes and cauliflower
...it looks delicious
but I can feel my stomach growing ill

"scott?"
the concern growing in her voice

shes certainly noticed the
uneasiness in me
the tiny beads of sweat taking shape on my forehead
the lateral wrinkles that have formed there as well

all suggesting

fear

"are you ok?"

i'm focusing on the butter oozing from the eaten side of the kiev

she stares at the top of my head

and i tell the chicken breast
that i'm sorry
that i was listening
and that i'm not feeling well

i then look up

her crimson red lips
becoming the letter O
on the brink of words

"i need to use the restroom" i say to her "i'll be back in a moment"

her fettuccine wrapped fork
now resting in its bowl

and I push my chair back
and rise

she gives a slight head nod
showing she understands

but certainly
not without worry

and although my back is to her
as I walk away scanning for the facilities
i could almost feel her large brown eyes on my body
like a helicopter spotlight flooding a suburban community

i pass the string quartet that's been serenading the dinning room all evening
they're performing bach now
concerto no 2

and for a reason that I do not understand
the music makes me think of the woman
waiting back at the table

why?
and why do I know that it's bach?

who is she?
whats happening to me?
why can't I remember anything?

i gag a little as i rush along
weaving between tables

who am I?...

when i find the restroom
i push the door open with both hands
my cheeks inflate like deployed air bags in a fender bender
and I begin vomiting
on my way to a toilet stall

i throw up loudly
and profusely

i cough
i gag
and i breath a little in between
and i flush
the roar amplified throughout the room
bouncing off of the barren white walls

i flush a few times

i heave and i gasp one last gasp
and finally

i'm done

i spit into the bowl

silence all around me

kneeling quietly over the toilet water

a single strand of mucus and saliva
connecting my nose
to the toilet seat
like an isthmus

the slow drip of a faucet
the muffled sound of the string quartet
the inaudible chatter of the dinning room
the buzzing of the ceiling lights

i've made a trail of muck leading to the first stall on the right

i am
a billion thoughts
buzzing through my brain

i can't remember anything
before being in the street in the rain
like a dream
but it felt so real
the rain
her...
who is she?
am I losing my mind?

is this
real?

is this real?

the questions resounding in my skull

i stand up after a couple of minutes
i gather myself
and i run my hands open palmed
down the sides of my jacket
as if to brush the experience off
when i feel a lump In my left pocket
i stuff my hand into the slit on the side of my jacket and I feel an object

but I don't need to look at it
to know what it is

Its boxed shape
Its velvety texture
running my fingers along the convex of the top
meeting a pair of lumps for hinges at the back

it's a jewelry box

a ring???
for the woman at the table???

i whip out the box
and I crack it open
and sure enough

revealing a 14 karat white gold band
and a pretty decent rock at the top

it's a wedding ring

i feel strange about it
like I've seen it before...

i ought to freshen up

i put it back in my pocket
and i stagger over to a sink
stepping over the vomit trail
i turn the knob to the left
i lean in
and i bring cold water up to my face
In cupped hands

it feels good

running my hands down my cheeks
the coolness exciting my nerves

i open my eyes

and i freeze...

terror suddenly accompanying the blood pumping through my body

temporary paralysis
as a result

the restroom in the mirror
has the same configuration
as the one I am in
it has the same stall layout
the same water splashing into the sink below
the same faucet
the same tile work of the walls

but

everything
In the mirror

is burning

it's on fire...

but what has me more unnerved
is that although I am directly in front of the mirror

i

am
not there

i have no reflection

I react
by stumbling back
slipping on my own vomit in the process
I slam into the stall door directly behind me
the door swings open and it slams into the inside making a loud snapping sound
i catch myself
by the perforators

i see the door in the mirror do this
the flames attached to it whisked along
as it slams into the perforator

but still
i have no reflection...

and I pan to the left
and then to the right

the other mirrors reflect the room
as it is
white tile
white walls

"Is this real?"

my heart pounding so hard
It could damage my rib cage

I stare into the other world just above the sink
the water still streaming from the faucet
the fire in little select spots
in blotches

not progressing
not dwindling

just burning

and i'm mustering up the courage to move closer

eventually i convince myself

and I draw closer to the mirror
taking a couple of steps forward

the flames dancing as eloquent and as soft as candle light

i move a little closer
raising my hand in the process
my index finger extended
my other hand reaching
to turn off the faucet

eventually only a couple inches from the mirror

i watch as my finger meets the surface

and i learn
that it's not glass

because

where I ought to feel a solid surface
my finger feels nothing...

and I watch as
half of my nail disappears into its reflection
sending little ripples across the surface like a pebble tossed into a pond

"what-the-hell..."

the fire and tile and stalls in the mirror
bending how a flags emblems might bend on a slightly breezy day

what the hell was in that kiev?

and just like that
the distant sounds of the quartet stop
the muffled chatter of the dinning room ceases
everything goes quiet

I whip my hand back
as if it were scolded by water
and my attention shoots to the restroom door
and the sudden silence beyond it

why did everything go quiet?

I glance back to the mirror
And i am startled yet again
but this time
to see myself...
i see the restroom as it ought to be

i put my hands on my reflection
And it's solid

it's mirror
it's glass

and nothing more

i back away
perplexed

my attention to the door
once again
the silence beyond it

i have to go out there
i need to speak to the woman
back at the table

i move closer to the exit
my sense of hearing
ever vigilante

and i grasp the door handle
the shiny brass reflecting my face
accentuating my nose
bulbous and cartoon-like

i pause
and i'm gripping the handle so tight
that my knuckles turn white

i take long breaths
the putrid smell of vomit filling my lungs
and then

exhale

this has to be a dream
all of this...

why can't I remember anything?

the woman at the table...
she obviously knows who i am

whoever she is
surely she could help me

gripping the handle

shes beautiful

i wish i could just remember

something
anything

dead silence
dead as dead can be

i need to go out there

now

the door handle
in my hand

i breath in

and i throw
the door to my right
producing in a mild rush of air
into my face

and the entire doorway
as if it were one solid light fixture panel

becomes a flash

of brilliant

white light