I grabbed one side of her hair, I started circling around her. I heard her telling me to stop but I ignored it. Funnily, she could do little to stop me what with my arms being far longer than hers. Soon I was dragging her about the apartment, I would make swift turns and she had to try to follow as best as she could. I would lift my arm up high and she'd have to stand on her toes to prevent her hair from being ripped off. It was a strange thing what was going on, we'd been arguing, it had been awful. All the time I just had this feeling that she wasn't getting it. And the feeling kept growing, it expanded in all directions conceptually, physically. It was a tense yet wild buzz filling my body gradually making - not my heartbeat, but something more primal. She didn't understand because her fault was in her making, her flow was not that of a pond - it's fluids advancing in essentially one direction -, but one of disproportionate as well as irregular bursts, the flow of it being if anything, merely the silence in between the eruptions. There is a fundamental Eco to all things, no one wave thrown on a beach did recede without- and if even only insignificantly - shaping it, there is no iron that isn't hot enough to burn a mark into anything forever. I could see it in images and thoughts flashing. Dog shit boots on a carpet, a crowd chanting "Jump! Jump!" til it happened; the non moving eyes of a parrot clawing it's way into the nest of another vigorously consuming the hatch-ling laying helplessly there. She did not understand because she was this, this fundamental ugly. Upon the realization I regained my senses.
Still I had her on her toes, holding her hair up high. When I let go she fell instantly on the floor. I think not only because she was not prepared, but because her physical being naturally had to swing the other way. Where has been tension there must be release, like a swing of a pendulum, or a wind up toy soldier, she could but succumb yet again, receding; this time there was no sand on the beach that hadn't been sucked back and under, all sharp rocks and little stones what remained, nothing for a living thing to lie on but living things make their own beds, or so they say. It was happening to me as well, but I wasn't done here, and still didn't fully get just what was going on or down for that matter. But I could feel the noise, the thought of all the ugliness sent ripples of cringey sensations across my back up my neck and into me; pumping shit.
I grabbed her hair again, both hands this time. Practically lifted her of the floor. Oh the scream, a piercing falsetto wail with genuine terror in it. My ears rang for a good minute. This time I just held her before me, brushed her out of her face and looked into her eyes. I think I must've had a curious look in my face, she didn't say a word and her eyes didn't dare meet mine for more than but a second at a time, spending as she did most of the instant looking down and to the side, awkwardly shifting her the position of her head. Gradually or just at some point, my grip must've softened without me noticing, for suddenly she slipped away, and in the same moment started crying. I think I just stood there, probably started biting my nails after a while, still with that same curious look. They came and picked up her stuff the next day.
