Karma

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I dreamed of her again. 

A knife had slid through my spinal column. I did not remember it happening, but I knew I was on the ground in a puddle of near-black blood. It was becoming more and more difficult to breathe. I could not move, my legs were heavy and useless strips of meat and bone. 

She undoes my belt, smiling. Then violently pulls it from my pants. She wraps the belt around my throat and, still smiling, tightens the make-shift noose. My vision gets smaller and smaller, like walking backwards from a television set in a dark room. I try feebly to struggle.

Her grip loosens. I labor to breathe deeply, fight to stay alive. Her smile becomes sad, she caresses my cheek. She kisses me, her lips soft yet firm and demanding. I close my eyes, as she pulls away. Then the noose tightens once more.

I try desperately to push myself to an upright position, she pushes her knee hard into my chest. Breathing becomes even more difficult. Breathlessly I beg her, “Please. I love you.”  and again she stops.

Tears flow freely from my eyes. Again she looks at me sadly. I see her as though for the first time. Her beauty… her eyes, her lips, her beautiful hair. But slowly it all unravels, cracks and separates. I can see the scars, the wounds that would never heal. I can see all the pain that I caused her. She looks into my eyes and understands my mind in one glance.

“This is Karma” she sobs. And tightens the noose again. I don’t even try to struggle.