A Mirror Darkly

I think the best thing about it was that you thought you’d gotten away with it.

You just appeared pretty much out of nowhere (and trust me I’m not exaggerating here because everyone was shocked) and then tried to act so naturally like it wasn’t strange that you’d said goodbye forty-five minutes ago and yet somehow here you were again.

That’s probably the greatest part about the whole thing actually.

Your casual reappearance; a stumbling fool emerging from the shadows wearing a grin I just wanted to smack off. You were so smug with yourself, swanning around with your false sense of achievement. It was wonderful to watch because everything about you was a dead giveaway - the sway, the slump, the slur, the stench - and yet you tried so desperately to maintain some semblance of coordination. We watched as you spat out a beer-soaked monologue no one could make sense of. We all shook our heads at you and laughed under our breath and tittered to each other and you didn’t even notice. Either that or you were too far gone to give a shit.

It got better when you followed us to the next bar and trapped someone in a confusing and illogical string of words and sentences too jumbled to be even called a conversation. Especially seeing as the other party did nothing but look distressed and attempt to retreat. You kept talking and talking in his face. I literally heard you say the words “he rips her arm off and beats her with it” and I’m pretty sure that’s when I choked on my drink.

I couldn’t stop staring. It was like one of those horrific car crashes that is so spectacularly bad that you can’t look away. I think I was just so mesmerised by the whole thing after all the jokes we’d made. To have someone finally embody the ridiculous enigma we’d all created in our minds. This concept that existed purely for our amusement.

If I really think about it, I’m kind of jealous that you got to be the one to strip me of my title but to be fair, it’s so befitting it would be selfish of me not to relinquish it. I dunno, maybe I’m still shocked I got to experience it. A run in with an imaginary idea; the real surprise trashbag.