Day 3: The Horror Within (the lights are on but no one`s home..)

ok part 2 of the short-story which I spawned this morning, from my 6 month old notes, and will post ...now. the plot dilutes. the waistline thickens. wish the paragraph breaks showed up, though...

Recur (ii)

So, a connection at last. About time, but arguably not the best possible beginning.
-Well, you called me here.
Logical.
She turns to face you. The shadows that were framing her melt into tar-black. Raises one finger, stirs it through the air, from left to right. Her voice pushes through the silence.
-You didn`t answer my question.
-Ok. We know each other..
At this you pause, unable to shake away the certainty that you`ve spoken many times before.
-We`ve spoken many times before. This feels like the first time we`ve met. But it can`t be.
She seems unmoved (my way with women again). A splinter of light reveals her flashing eyes for a second. Cats eyes? Slides closer. Breathes in rhythm with your breathing. That unmistakable fragrance again. You start to get up but don`t - time passes.
-It could be said we have some history together, she says. You`re married, aren`t you? Why are you here?
These words drip out and you feel hollow inside, eaten away, and you shift in the chair. Feels like a different chair. Reaching out for the whiskey and ice, you fail to find it. Perhaps she hasn`t poured it yet. This is getting a little crazy.
Outside the window you never noticed the other times, the stars are moving. Wheeling, turning and unfixed. Continues softly.
- It`s different this time. So why come back?
-I can`t say.
You blink and she enters the room and moves to the cabinet. Great, we`re moving in circles like a goddamn stuck record. You twirl the whiskey around in the glass, the unmelted ice tinkles. You study the bed and try to think. You spent time in that unruffled bed; there was passion there. Violent, guilty love-making that feels all too momentary now. The memories come slower when you force them. With one eye fixed on the square pillow, you keep forcing away the darkness inside and speak.
-But I`m not married now. She`s gone, though I can`t recall all the details. Maybe she met someone else.. we talked on the phone but didn`t meet again. She could have remarried now. Once she said we married too early, it wasn`t the right time. Maybe she met someone else. I do.. regret some things (a pause before what I believe is the truth). I never wanted her to leave.
Again, that sensation, growing in magnitude and now even harder to repress. It twists. Looking up and away from the unmoving woman on the bed, you feel the fabric of the room tear a little. The walls blink transparently for one horrendous moment as if no longer certain about whether to remain as walls. A glimpse of what lies outside the room instantly collapses your mind inward with pure, unmitigated terror. The entropy screams back. After what seems like an eternity, the hole closes up, you slowly being to unfreeze. With that unfathomable chaos back at arm`s length (for now, it seems), as far as you can tell, time, again, passes. But you don`t want to hear her words anymore.
-Of course she left you.
-Why do you think that? (I know why)
-You kept coming here.

(iii, the last bit, tomorrow)