there's no fire

Clay comes back to find the house empty. There’s a letter for him in the mailbox and a note for him on the kitchen table.

He makes a cup of tea and sits down at the kitchen table. He reads the letter first. It’s from Callie, he could tell right away.

After having read it he carefully folds the letter and places it back in the envelope. Then he reads the note from Orlando.

He sits for a while at the kitchen table, letting the tea get cold, smoothing Orlando’s note, taking the letter from Callie out of the envelope, reading it, and putting it back a couple of times.

I’m leaving to be with somebody else. Please don’t be angry.

He wonders if they’ve spoken with each other. It sounds that way.

He takes the cup to the sink and empties it, watching the liquid run down the drain. Then he walks outside to do some weeding. He ends up on his knees, fists pushed as deep into the soil as they can get, sobbing. The few tears leave him raw inside. Aching.

He scrubs at his face with dirty hands and goes back inside to curl up on the couch.

There’s a scream inside his mind and it can’t get out. And he can’t run away from it. He promised David not to run away. And Ranuccio. He wishes one of them were here. But he is all alone.

I love you. That’s why I have to leave.

And it isn’t fire he can feel inside. No. The house burned. Darkly burned. He didn’t burn. There is no fire.

Please.

No fire at all.

Please don’t.

And no blood on his hands.

Please don’t be angry.

He closes his eyes and tries to think of light. He misses David.