Tall Dark Stranger

Tall Dark Stranger

At the age of 17 Philippa wanted to know all about men. Now a married woman of 36 she wished they knew all about her. The enveloped manuscript lay on her desk, Philippa opened it with a scalpel and removed the contents, the title read:

A STRANGER FOR LOVING

By Clarissa Du'Pre

Philippa read a piece at random:

Abigail sat waiting, she had been like this for over an hour, believing there was still hope and that her true lover would return.

Philippa checked the wall clock that said 18:09, and placing the manuscript in her satchel, removed her yellowey brown mac from a hook of three, then after leaving her Publisher's Office, secured the door with a key and began to make her way downstairs. She stopped halfway to straighten her stocking at the shoe and smiled at the old man on security:

“Goodnight David!” She said

“Goodnight Mrs. Haversham.” He replied, looking up from his paper, his mug of tea already finished.

“At least somebody notices me!” She thought.

It was still early, so instead of returning to her husband, whom was probably asleep in front of the T.V as usual, Philippa decided to go where she assumed there was company. She had done that a lot in the past, before she became married to Arthur. Then, after a while they became “Domestic” Of course she got her share of literary invites, however since she was not in the major league “And Arthur preferring to stay home” they were not what she had hoped for or even expected.

Philippa got in her car after placing her satchel between the gap separating the driver's seat from the passenger's, and having put on her seat-belt checked the rear-view mirror for oncoming traffic before leaving the building car-park that was open spaced. She did however see what clearly looked like the reflected face of a man in his 40's, the kind of face that was well known, as if it had always been there.

“Philippa.”

She turned quickly, there was no one there, not a man in sight.

The nearest bar in this section of London wasn't far from where she worked, It was one of those new fangled Wine Bars Philippa had been demanding her husband take her to, and each time she did her demands were rejected! It looked inviting with its warm orange light covering the window as if it were a nightly store. Philippa entered, not caring whom she talked with so long as it was someone.

There didn't seem to be anyone in the bar except for the young man in his late twenties behind the bar cleaning a wine glass with expert precision. Though Philippa assumed inexperienced in other matters. She smiled none the less and stated:

“Ah, Good evening.”

“Good evening Madam, what can I get you?”

“I'd like a Mombazilac please;

“Certainly, would you like something to eat?” “We have an excellent selection, including some very good desserts to go with the wine!”

“Er, No thanks, I've already eaten-” “Have one yourself though!”

“Thank you Madam.”

It was 8.0 when Philippa left. She had only had two glasses and the Barman seemed to drop her attempts at conversation with stoppers at every given opportunity, in fact no one responded to her the way she they did in those books she was paid to print(sic) The smiles were acknowledging in a way that made her feel cold, and now she knew when she returned home it would be no different.

Philippa lived in a block of flats in Knightsbridge that seemed out of place. Her home on the fifth-floor was respectable within. However outside the building showed the classic distinction she had always strived to leave behind.

She let herself in with her key, stating: “I'm home.” and respecting no reply received none as per usual.

This time however he did stir, he was unshaven and he still wore a vest: “What sort of man wear's a bloody vest?” thought Philippa as she stared at the cup and saucer on the small table he hadn't bothered to take out?”

“I'm sorry, he stated sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes, I must have fallen asleep.” “What's the time?”

“About 8:30, Did anyone phone?”

“I'm not certain if they did, I never heard anything.” “What's for dinner?”

“Didn't you do the shopping? What happened to the money I gave you?, “You knew I'd be working!”

“Look, I'm busy, can't you do me anything I'm hungry?”

Philippa left and entered the kitchen. She knew she probably wouldn't see the money again, Arthur had Poker nights with his mates whom Philippa considered just as inadequate as her husband. Philippa opened the freezer and saw it was almost empty, she peered closely and muttered,

“It'll have to do!”

When she returned he was still slumped in front of the television. Philippa stood holding a small plate that contained two sandwiches. He took them then lifted up a piece as if a schoolboy looking under a paving stone for insects.

“What's this?” He Inquired.

“Cheese and celery/” She said with pride.

“You expect me to eat this?”

“Well I did make it.”

He hit her. Philippa had had this thing before, and she knew she had to stand there and take it wishing she could escape into one of those Romantic Novels she published.

Those type got kissed by Moonlight, Philippa seemed to get hit most nights. Her face tearful though still in silence, Philippa made her way into the bedroom, and removing the bag from her shoulder placed it on the bed and went over to the full length mirror that was part of the wardrobe.

“Men.” She muttered, “They're all the same! “Well the ones I seem to know.”

“Am I the same?” said a voice.

“No, you're different!” She clarified, turning to address the person in question. There standing by the window hidden except by Moonlight, was a man in a dark tweed suit with a crisp white-shirt and a maroon tie. He had short black hair and a craggy face, Philippa put him at late thirties or early forties, he looked married.

Philippa smiled and the figure came into distance allowing her to draw his hand to her face.

“I love you/” She confirmed.

The Tall Dark Stranger smiled, enthusiastically understanding her every desire.

“Here!” She said in defiance, moving his hand from her face to the top button of her blouse-”

“Later.” “We cannot rush these things/” “It must be at the right time!”

“Yes.!” Replied Philippa, “The right time.”

“I have to leave.” said The Tall Dark Stranger.

“You will return won't you?” “I mean you will see me again?”

“Of course my love!”

Philippa watched as The Tall Dark Stranger turned into wispy pink talcum powder and floated out the open bedroom window. Then she closed it and went over to her satchel and removed the manuscript, read yet again at random:

Abigail knew how much she loved Dr.Barkworth and hoped he felt the same way. Dr.Barkworth was a refined Gentleman and in charge of the hospital known as St.Medics. He had his own house and car and was considered extremely dashing amongst the ladies.

“Hope he turns out a sod.” damned Philippa, laying the manuscript on the bed as the phone rang in the hallway, she went and picked it up and inquired who it was?

“Philippa it's Miriam, did you receive the manuscript, what do you think of it?” “I think it's very promising.”

Miriam was Clarissa Du'Pre's Agent, she had gotten to know Philippa quite accurately, though not Arthur, “None of them had so it seemed.”

“Yes, it looks very interesting.”

“What do you think of the plot?” Urged Miriam, “You don't think it's too cliched?”

“I cannot comment it's too early.” “Where are you?”

“I've just got off the plane at Gatwick!” “Nigel's decorating, he promised he'd have the bedroom ready for when I return, so I'll have to see you later in the week!” “If you need anything give me a call, you have my number don't you?”

“Yes of course!”

“Anyway I must go!” “Love you!”

“No you don't!” Muttered Philippa, after Miriam had clicked off.

The Tall Dark Stranger floated as pink talcum powder through the bedroom window, and becoming form glanced in commiseration at the slumped figure of the man seated in the chair in the middle of the half decorated bedroom. Then with contempt at how his poor wife had been misled, he gently picked up the trowel that lay on the floor, and with Satanic force plunged it deep into the man's skull, cracking through bone and drawing out gushes of blood as he released his grip. The body slumped dead onto the floor.

The Tall Dark Stranger turned into yellow snow-flake Apple blossom and floated into the dining room, And seeing how splendid it was with its oaken table and chairs compared to the unfinished bedroom, studied the unlit candelabra knowing when Philippa's time came he would never reject her, because women were not to be discarded. The Tall Dark Stranger turned back into Apple blossom and this time floated through the letter box, gently wafting past Miriam as she entered the house with a key, soon to discover her husband dead! Blood from his skull mingled with fluid gushing out of his open mouth, the trowel still firmly embedded in his skull.

Miriam stared in contempt at the unfinished wallpaper, before deciding to phone the Police.

Abigail gazed fondly into the face of Dr.Barkworth, She felt her heart beating rapidly as he drew closer to her. His arms circled round her waist, their lips touched gently at first and then as the passion grew more forceful-”

Philippa are you alright?”

Philippa replaced the manuscript and turned to see her husband arched in the bedroom entrance, as if it somehow represented their wedding day when things had looked so promising.

“I was reading.” She said emotionless.

“Are you going to the shops?, I've phoned some of my friends, they're coming over this evening.” “I was wondering if you could pick up some cans of beer?”

“Alright!”

He studied her in silent concern, however this was not enough! And so he left knowing he had done wrong yet not wanting to change deep down.

The Tall Dark Stranger wafted through Philippa's bedroom window as Apple blossom and turned into form. She stared at his craggy yet attractive face, his eyes holding her transfixed as he drew her closer and inquired:

“What's wrong?” “You can tell me” “That's why I came.”

“He expects me to pick up some cans of beer, his friends are coming over tonight for another of their late night Poker sessions, it'll be my money he spends.” “He knows I'm busy, why can't he go his bloody self?”

“Does he understand your predicament?”

“I suppose deep down.”

“Too deep to rekindle the past?”

“If I try to explain how I feel he ignores me, or worse he becomes hostile!” “He was never like that before we married! I want things different, everything is so routine, it's like nothing actually changes all we do is rearrange things;

“Would you like to rearrange things permanently?” Empathised The Tall Dark Stranger, as she drew closer to him and he held her whilst she rested her tearful face upon his shoulder.

“Yes.” “Stay with me!”

“Of course.” said The Tall Dark Stranger.

The phone rang later that evening, and whilst The Tall Dark Stranger waited in the bedroom and Arthur slept in the dining room, Philippa went to answer it.

“Philippa it's Miriam.”

Her voice was almost hysterical, Philippa knew it was best to let Mirian explain.

“I-I've phoned the Police, Nigel's dead!” “Somebody must have broken in and killed him, although there's no sign of forced entry!”

“Dead?” Stated Philippa in disbelief, “Are you on your own?”

“No/” “There's a young Policeman in the bedroom waiting for forensics!” :Nice looking Gentleman, very restricted though!”

“How was he killed?” Inquired Philippa, trying not to sound gory.

“A trowel was plunged through his head! They say whoever did it must have been very strong to use such force! We were supposed to go to Patrick's dinner party over the weekend, he's expecting you and Arthur to come.”

Patrick was a Book Reviewer for a well known paper and his column was a reliable guide to what were the best books to read. His reviews could make or break an Author it was claimed, and Philippa knew Miriam needed Clarissa Du'Pre's reviews to improve since they had not been too favourable concerning her last novel.

“We'll try. If Arthur's too tired, I'll come on my own.” She said, as if in defiance,”If ever you want to come over Miriam, I mean if ever your lonely-”

“I will Philippa, I believe forensics are here, I'll phone you back.” “Thank you.”

Philippa replaced the phone, noticing without having to look that The Tall Dark Stranger was beside her to give his support because she needed someone to understand.

“Did you kill him?” Inquired Philippa.

Yes”!”

“Why?” She Protested.

“Because I was asked to, not in so many words you understand, however you know who I am, and so do all women!” “So does Miriam; “You see my darling her life is similar to yours in so many ways, that's why I'm here for you!”

“Why don't men understand?” Inquired Philippa.

“Some men do!” “They to expierience what you are going through and seek help from us!”

“What do you mean us?”

“Those men whom, like women are rejected, have someone to turn to, a woman called The NightShadow.” “You see Philippa even men have their own Romantic Avenger;

That evening Philippa waited on Arthur and his four male friends, whilst they played Poker and wasted her money that she had worked so hard for! Arthur seemed to enjoy ordering her about, and the fact his friends found her attractive gave him a sense of oneupmanship, Philippa knew she was so much more.

Philippa began to wash the glasses, hating the smoke drifting from the dining room and knowing Arthur could never really stop! She hated being a housewife rather than a woman, or rather one without the other! And now Arthur was calling her to bring in more food relative to the evening.

The Tall Dark Stranger placed his hands on her shoulders as she dried a final plate, and seeing her tears whispered, “I know you Philippa, I always know what women desire.”

Philippa turned her, her face reddened, her musty blonde hair smelling of cheap moisture that men once found desirable.

“I want you to kill my husband!” :I want to be rid of him!” “I want to be treated how I used to be!”

“Of course I will my darling, but first we need a plan!” “If I kill him in a way that causes suspicion the Police may come and arrest you, that is why we must work together on this.”

“An accident.” Agreed Philippa, trying to think of a plan.

“What does he usually do?” Inquired The Tall Dark Stranger.

“Sod all most of the time, like all bloody men when they put the ring on!” “However he sometimes goes down the pub.”

“Can he drive?”

“Yes!” “But if he does he only has a couple of pints because he's been cautioned in the past! And he's well known to the Police!”

“Don't worry I'll take care of things, You persuade him to take the car.” “Do you think you can do that for us darling?”

He kissed her lips lovingly and she allowed an embrace to happen.

“Yes, I can manage that for both of us.”

“Then I will have to confirm our plans with the correct source!”

Being a Gentleman The Tall Dark Stranger stayed till Arthur's friends had gone, then asking politely to be excused he turned into an Apricot breeze found only in spring time and floated as Orange fragrance out the door! Leaving Philippa to contemplate what would happen.

That evening whilst Arthur slept ridden with the stench of beer and cigarettes, she dreamed she was at a Grand Opening and wore a beautiful Period Gown. She was dancing with The Tall Dark Stranger whom wore a Dinner Suit and Bow Tie. They were admired by everyone. In the morning however reality set in, and yet this time there was something different. Arthur wanted to talk. Whether it was the effect of the drink or genuine empathy he seemed sorry about the way he had treated her. He told her he loved her! And he didn't like the way she had to keep proving herself to people ike Miriam and especially Patrick. He wanted her to realise who she really was.

Philippa embraced him, knowing he didn't really understand, even though like most men he believed he did. She told him she would prepare breakfast and that she would be very busy today.

“I won't be back till late.” She stated, “If you want to go out, you can take the car if you want, I'll take a Taxi.”

“I may need some money!” He said, his voice somewhat nervous.

“Of course.” She smiled.

He clenched her hand as she began to leave the bedroom, letting it slip as she smiled in commiseration at how they could have been. Then he closed his eyes in thought,

Before preparing breakfast Philippa went to the dining room where her satchel lay on the settee along with the manuscript she had almost finished. She took it out and having read correctly continued;

Abigail knew she had to stand beside Dr.Barkworth

“I did not mean for The Chairman's Son to die during surgery, I feel I will never wave another scalpel!” “But at least now I can take his place on the board, and soon you and I will be together!”

Philippa smiled, “Was Dr.Barkworth subconsciously responsible for murder?” “Even though The Chairman's Son had only gone in for a kidney operation?” “Does anyone really understand what true love is?”

The Tall Dark Stranger smiled at the way he had expertly fixed the brakes of Arthur's car, told to him by a murderous Gentleman whom The NightShadow had killed for so she could be with in Paris.

The Tall Dark Stranger watched as Arthur began to drive along having left the pub. And then the car swerved out of it's path and crashed into a wall! Being the sort that did not wear a seat-belt Arthur crashed through the windscreen and was instantly killed. His body lay half in and half out, his chest embedded with glass, turning his shirt from white to crimson, The Tall Dark Stranger smiled and floated as wispy Autumn breeze smelling of Apple blossom.

Philippa heard the phone ring whilst she waited for her lover to return. This time it was Patrick asking if she and Arthur could make it this Saturday at 5.0? Dinner would be at 8.0 but Patrick always had things to discuss.

Philippa knew in truth she'd be coming alone. However she agreed and said she and Arthur were both looking forward to it.

“That's good.” “It's terrible what happened isn't it?”

“You mean about Miriam's husband Nigel.” Emphasised Philippa.

“Yes!” “Have the Police questioned you yet?” “Because they've been to see me and I heard they questioned some other people;

“No, they haven't!” said Philippa.

There was a silence and for some reason Philippa knew what she had to ask:

“Patrick.” “Have you ever heard of The Tall Dark Stranger?”

“You mean the character in Romantic Fiction who understands all women and comes to them in their hour of need?, He's fiction Philippa he doesn't exist!”

“Thank you!” said Philippa, then stated “Goodbye.” and replaced the phone.

Was Patrick correct? Was there inn truth no one whom really cared? Yet like those characters in those books, she believed in hope and soon that hope appeared,

“Philippa.” Began The Tall Dark Stranger, “I've done what we both wanted.”

“You mean, “She turned for confirmation” “Arthur, you've killed him?!

“Yes, my darling.” “I have freed you from domestic burdens!” Stated The Tall Dark Stranger, Standing there holding a vintage bottle of Champagne and a Knightsbridge shopping bag ladled with food that he would prepare this evening, though first they had to prepare another concoction!

“The Police will no doubt contact you soon Philippa!” “When they do it will be routine at first, since they will not want to be deemed too intrusive!” However suspicion may occur and so listen carefully to what I have to say.”

Being a Bon Viveur as well as a renowned Gentleman, The Tall Dark Stranger set the table amidst candlelight and soft music and prepared:

OYSTERS IN CHAMPAGNE JELLY (from the vintage he had brought, they would drink the rest with the meal)

LANGOUSTINE TAILS DIPPED IN HOLLANDAISE.

INDIVIDUAL DARK CHOCOLATE SOUFFLES WITH RASPBERRY SORBET(S) CENTRES,

He even prepared a set of appropriate Petit Fours to round the evening off!

Philippa and The Tall Dark Stranger made love. And although she had what she desired, she missed the familiarity of the past, but now she knew they both had to look to the future.

Philippa slept in the arms of The Tall Dark Stranger, yet when she was awakened by a knock at the door at 4:10 A.M. she got out of bed alone. She feared nothing, her lover had left, not so she could face the consequences, but so he would not lead her into suspicion. When Philippa opened the door she was faced with the presence of a Policeman in uniform whom introduced himself as Detective Sergeant Wentley. He Stated that her husband had been killed in a car accident, “Diplomatically, then apologised but insisted he had to come in and speak with her, since forensics were concerned about the car-” Philippa, unafraid of having discovered true love let him in, And even offered him a cup of tea, which he agreed too. In the dining room, Philippa in a green nightdress of acceptable chaste, explained as she sipped her tea that her husband sometimes took the car and did not always inform her of his decision.

“Forensics believe the brakes were tampered with Mrs.Haversham, can you explain how this could have happened?”

“I took the Taxi because the car had indeed been playing up, and told my husband I would contact the garage on my return!” “He kept saying I wouldn't have time because I'm very busy!” “He must have taken it himself believing there wasn't much wrong with it!”

D.S.Wentley looked in plausibility.

“Your husband crashed leaving the pub; “Does your husband usually visit the pub?” “I ask because it does take him slightly out of the area!”

“He could have reached the garage; “It'd only take him slightly more time!” Stated Philippa, as if putting her defence,

“Yes, that is a possibility.” “I mean it wouldn't really take him all that long.” “Do you know if your husband phoned the garage to make an appointment?”

“No, he never tells me anything!” She said, sounding rejected, even if unintentionally.

“I believe you're friends with a woman named Miriam Grenville?”

“Yes!” “She's an Agent.” “Her husband was recently murdered!”

D.S.Wentley looked at her as if she'd failed to spot an obvious clue in some Victorian murder mystery, “It's possible your husband was murdered by the same man who killed Mr. Grenville; “Do you happen to know anyone whom might have a grudge?” “Some Author who can't take rejection?” “A business rival of some sort?” “A former employee perhaps?”

“No!” “I'm sorry I can't be of anymore help!”

The rest of the discussion was amicable, in fact D.S.Wentley seemed very understanding and Philippa wondered if she had judged things more than she should have?!?

He left at 9.0 giving her a number to phone, and the reference number in case she was put through to the desk Sergeant.

She thanked him and smiled.

D.S.Wentley smiled back official, though that did not matter.

Philippa spent the rest of the day on the phone to Miriam and the two of them now seemed more closer.

Philippa decided that evening to finish the rest of Clarissa Du'Pre's Novel, She read:

Abigail and Dr.Barkworth now had each other as they had always desired. Yet the completeness had removed not freedom but a boundary they were both beginning to miss. This new world of Dark Romance was uncertain and they were wondering if they had chosen the incorrect path. Though they were together.

No one phoned Philippa after that. Even Patrick whom assumed she knew when the dinner party was had only phoned once. When Philippa arrived by Taxi to Patrick's house in London, he welcomed her with an over affectionate greeting that Philippa knew was automatic rather than because he desired her!

“Philippa, Come in and meet our Vault Of Horror, we're quite friendly when you get to know us!”

Philippa allowed Patrick to lead her by the hand, “She already knew Miriam, there were two men and one woman in a green crossover dress whom was one of those over elegant Romantic Novelists. The two men were in the publishing business, working overseas so to speak.

The first course of Watercress and Lime Soup with Mussels was light and refreshing as was the conversation, “Until they tried to be empathic by showing sympathy over Arthur” Philippa wanted to scream, “You don't know what he was like.” “This is real life not some bloody Romantic Novel written for people who can't face the fact we're all flawed; Instead she smiled and thanked them for their genuine concern.

“Did the Police tell you whom they believed was involved?” Inquired Miriam, “Only D.S.Wentley told me he spoke with you.” “Apparently they seem to think both our husband's murders are connected!”

“No.” “I suppose they don't want us to warn anyone unintentionally!” Stated Philippa, sipping Merlot whilst Patrick checked the Roast Leg of Lamb with Garlic and Rosemary, Lyonaisse Potatoes. At 10:30 after a double helping of homemade Chocolate Mint Ice Cream, Patrick insisted on phoning a Taxi for Philippa and told her to phone if she wanted anything.

In the Taxi Philippa watched people hand in hand and studied the lights of the West End, as if this was the World she would soon enter with her lover.

She asked to be dropped off a few yards from her home and paid the driver tip included He thanked her and drove off.

Philippa brought a Newspaper from an all night corner Shop, wondering if there was anything in it about Arthur or even Miriam's husband? There wasn't, however the headline on the cover did state:

WOMAN FOUND DROWNED IN BATH IN LIVERPOOL, WOMAN DRESSED IN PINK CHIFFON TROUSERS AND LACE BLOUSE BEING HUNTED BY THE POLICE.

“Men have their own Avenger.” thought Philippa, “The NightShadow.”

Philippa arrived home and let herself in with a key, she went into the bedroom, removed her yellowey brown mac and placed it on the chair. A mist of apple blossom floated gently through her bedroom window and there stood The Tall Dark Stranger wearing a Dinner suit and Bow-Tie, holding a Gentleman's handkerchief stained with blood.

“Have you killed someone?” Inquired Phillippa.

“Yes my darling.” “A man in Threadneedle Street, he rejected his poor wife by spending too much time at the office as a Chartered Accountant!” “But do not worry my love soon we will be together-”

“What you mean soon?” Screamed Philippa, “What about me don't I count?”

“Of course you count my darling as do all lonely people whom believe in Romantic hope!” “That's why I must go to whoever needs me!”

“Men!” Muttered Philippa, “You're all the same, I suppose women'll call you Dr.Barkworth from now on;

The Tall Dark Stranger turned into wispy pink talcum powder and floated out the window stating:

“I love you Philippa.

Philippa stood there with only her memories, wondering if what she had done was really worth it? And hoping that one day she would find true romance should her lover return?!?

THE END

The Deconstructing Man

I want to tell you all about my husband. How he acts, what he’s like, his good points as well as his bad ones. I want to tell you the things I like about him and the things I don’t! I’m doing all this because when I say this is all about him it is not entirely true, because this is also about me! My home, my friends, my hopes my ambitions and most of all, this is about you!” “Yes you reading this right now.” whoever you are, wherever you may be this is of concern to you, because what is happening to me will happen to you unless a solution can be found. He will change us all, perhaps beyond recognition. He may have done so already, this could be one of his tests, so I will use my intelligence, even though to him we are all insignificant!

A few months ago my husband Charles was working as a computer software analyst for a large company, along with his best friend Collin who is black. Collin is married to Sandra a thirty year old black woman who is a Geneticist with her hair in half ringlets, an attractive figure with a good back posture and the ability to be more English than the rest of us, liking Sunday lunch traditional and using the word bloody in all most every sentence. Collin is shorter and looks like one of those chaps who wears a dinner suit and bow tie whilst playing in a jazz and blues band. He has short hair and is very approachable; their relationship is she wears the trousers, or he lets her think so, I have heard him and my husband laughing together at this quotation when they think we are not watching. I have a feeling I know what it is about, and yet I had no sense of what was about to occur.

It had been an excellent dinner, we had Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding followed by a steamed sticky toffee pudding with homemade toffee sauce custard instead of ice cream, because Sandra is English not European! We had tea, and about 11.0 they affectionately said goodbye to us. when they had driven off with Sandra at the wheel of their car we began to tidy up.

Whilst I was busy in the Dining Room, my husband Charles took the cups into the kitchen to be washed up along with the rest of the crockery. It was then I heard a noise, instantly knowing he had broken a cup I went to confirm this and was proved right! Yet any annoyance I might have had was replaced by the fact he was on his knees, and appeared at first to be trying to put it back together, without the help of anything as if expecting the pieces to slot back in. He was unaware of me as I watched him pick up two pieces at a time and try to fix them together, then he began to smell the cup and even began to put a piece in his mouth, to say I was becoming afraid was an understatement, I know my husband’s sense of humour and I can assure you this was not it! in fact I began to think this was not my husband at all, or at least if it was, it would not be for very long.

I must have stood there engulfed by this scene for at least three minutes, in that time I began to think my imagination was becoming out of control, because the floor I was on did not feel like linoleum. it actually felt like enamel, the same enamel of the blue cup my husband was now spitting on and trying to mold gently, as if it was still in the clay process. It was at that moment I became concerned that one of us was in danger of losing our mind; Deciding to take control by gently helping him up, with my arm around his shoulder, I kissed his face in concern and muttered, “Charles, we have to go to bed.” “You have to go to work in the morning!” “Come on, you’re tired you get some rest, I’ll tidy this up.”

He answered me. Well when I say he answered me, he muttered something high-pitched, yet it was words, though none I’d ever recognized!

I helped him into the bedroom and allowed him to sleep on the bed in his clothes. He did so instantly. and incase of any mishaps, I decided to go and clean up the mess in the kitchen that appeared to be getting warmer, or was it my reaction to stress? It was whilst putting the pieces of the cup in the bin that I felt something slushy on my hand, a piece of the cup still blue was now soft and wet, it had become clay, I studied it with my fingers outspread in a similar way he had done, and yet I had no idea what was occurring! And he knew everything.

I did not mention this to anyone, well what would have been the point? First of all I did not believe it myself and secondly unusual occurrences do not change things, or so I thought, because over the past few weeks things did begin to change and I was not the only one to notice!

Although I had been worried about Charles, because I believed like my Father who died at ninety six, he was indeed suffering from the beginnings of alzheimer's, he showed no signs of continuing the way he had previously on that night. In fact he even inquired to me why we were a cup missing and even blamed our guests! I did not explain, instead I said I did not know, which I suppose in it's own way was the truth! However I did watch him carefully to see if anything unusual did occur; it did,

The first thing was his improvement at work, usually he did what any software analyst does, and yet one day his boss came in and saw him writing a different program, to the type he was usually assigned too! It was lunch time, and Collin who does the same work, had gone off because my husband had said he was tired and wanted to be left alone. Collin was empathic and so he did not take offense. According to his boss Mr. Jefferson, whom we knew on a respectful social level, my husband had been writing the program whilst staring into space,, and according to Mr.Jefferson whom was not drunk, my husband's eyes seemed at one point to have become black dots like parts of the galaxy without stars! Although when his boss told me this when we met in the shopping centre, he had tried making it sound like a joke, and yet by the look on his face I could tell he was afraid! I did not tell him about the cup, although now I wish In had, because as events became stranger they also became discontented.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Carstairs, he announced shaking my hand, it was then he preceded to open his blue briefcase and give me the computer print out of my husband’s software program. I think he somehow knew what it might be, and so did I! Because we are all connected to this in many different ways and theories, and that despite being an educated and very intelligent man he knew the situation that was occurring deemed us all primitive!

I thanked him, I then made some joke about having it framed and he laughed whilst I placed it in my shopping bag and proceeded to walk home because my husband had the car to work as usual. This however was not a problem because I enjoyed walking to the shops, I particularly enjoyed the surroundings, the familiarity and security that had become part of our everyday routine, the things that keeps us all in existence, the constant situation deemed in so many ways as life! Yet when you think of it what was life, what did it mean and why did the software print out I now held in my hand look so familiar?

Well when I say familiar I mean in the sense of memory rather than knowledge, perhaps both inherited and conscious! I also knew it was of the kind similar to that which Sandra worked on in her job as a geneticist! For when I had visited her at her place of work in the past I had seen drawings that were deemed similar, yet I still needed to be certain. This was not however the only thing that seemed debatable, for when I arrived home it also appeared to me that the house was different, There was no outward physical change and yet when I touched the walls they seemed to be thin, as if there were no inner substance and when I pressed it cracked, it went in slightly and I feared I would fall through into another world ,one I was curious of and yet was afraid to learn more of!

There are no real explanations to things we do not understand so please do not ask me to explain what I do not know, If to be ambiguous is to be agnostic then I am both. I listened to the walls I listened to sounds, sounds that were words he had made, and I froze incase they heard me or perhaps they always had, and yet I needed to be certain of one thing, so I phoned Sandra and told her I was concerned, “It’s Charles I told her, he’s done a software drawing, can I fax it to you, it looks familiar?

Yes of course!

I was uncertain this would work because there were changes occuring in the house, tiny subtle changes involving the structures that it will at this moment take too long to explain. However I faxed it and Sandra phoned me to say that she had received my fax at work, no doubt in her white coat. She was interested I could picture her studying it and then I heard her reply, Emma, does Charles know anything about biology?

I. I don’t know I replied, why?

“Because this is a complete DNA print out of the human body, and yet there are things around it I don’t understand!” “Can I come and see you, I feel afraid something is about to happen, I think you do too!

“Yes, Yes of course I said, trying to listen incase the walls did something, I’ll wait here can you come now, I mean is it alright, I know you’re the boss more or less-!

“Emma, don’t worry I’m coming!”

The phone clicked out of existence, and yet I held onto mine, for a few more moments till I felt certain it was safe to replace, and yet all this illogic was the only thing keeping me secure because it was all you and I had ever had!

When Sandra arrived she embraced me and instantly commented on the structure of the house, “It seems thin, she said, the walls they seem to have shadows behind them if you look closely they appear to be moving and the floor it feels as if it will give way, am I going mad?” She inquired still embracing me with a smile then added: I bloody hope not!

She was right, the walls had what looked like globular shapes, some with what can only be described as long tentacles and yet somehow I knew they were all connected! I must have became mesmerised because Sandra had to forcibly propel me by the arm and lead me into my own dining room;

She then began to explain to me that the software was DNA code, she told me it was at first glance basic, yet on further observation there appeared to be more educated developments, for it not only explained the structure of the human DNA it explained the DNA of the DNA of the DNA of the DNA?

“And do you know this because of your work?” I inquired, trying to gain some clarity to the situation.

“In someways yes, she said, and then after a pause conceded!” “And because he told me, can’t you hear his voice?”

“No, I said, for I could not! Then, as if territorial, though not wanting to diminish our friendship I inquired:

“Why is he telling you instead of me, after all I am his wife?” I had said this with a sense of esoteric knowledge, somehow knowing and yet not fully understanding why!

“Because I’m not certain if it is your husband, She replied with the same level of intelligence, something is happening Emma; Collin told me he believed that Charles had lost all apparent interest when last he saw him! Collin also said that he seemed tired at work, all he appeared to do was study, or perhaps a better word would be deconstruct!

“She took my hand! “Feel the wall, “She made me” When Charles and my husband return we need to talk to whatever it is, let it understand we are intelligent!

And what if it disagrees? I inquired.

I do not know what then? She replied.

We had tea to be civilized because we needed to hold onto what we assumed to be our existence and yet now the walls had changed colour from yellow to green, and I wondered what next would occur?

Sandra watched the globular shapes now separating and reforming in different patterns, she got up at one point and began to walk towards them, their shapes seen through the thin walls like shadows behind a screen.

Then she turned to me and muttered the the word;

“Universes”

At first I thought it was a mistake, however I could sense a knowledgeable presence telling me the statement was accurate as if it was indeed trying to communicate with me, the same way it was communicating with Sandra and my husband that he possessed.

I turned to Sandra, believing that as official interpreter it would allow her to clarify:

“There is a scientific theory that there are many Universes, and ours is one born of many! It is therefore believed that this first universe if discovered would be the key to all knowledge, the answer to how everything was created or came into existence, “As you and I believe!”

“And of course like all of us this thing is uncertain?” I inquired, staring at the walls,

Then a question occurred to me,”Why hasn't anyone noticed this situation?” I inquired out loud, now making my way to the door as if hoping to seek help as well as a solution.

Sandra followed me as I made my way down the passage that had in no way altered, then she waited as I turned the door hnadle, feeling its squelchyness like the cup that had turned into clay, however it was still firm enough to open and I stared at the people and everyday traffic. Although I did not call out it was clear they could not see me! I knew this because when they looked in the direction of the house that had appeared recognisably thin, they did not seem to notice. When I looked at Sandra and inquired what was occurring?

She explained that there is a theory of universes living within universes, and that perhaps somehow we were now existing in some manufactured hole, known as an Einstein Rosen bridge, one that could look out at other worlds around it but not be seen, sort of like oneway glass; She concluded.

“It seems this is or always has been the main structure of communication, or rather a starting point for explanations to follow!” Exclaimed Sandra.

“What about Collin and my husband?” I inquired.

Sandra clenched my arm as if to confirm her point and stated:

“If we watch we can see them return, notice how this universe interacts differently as it travels through;

She checked her watch, and concluded that they should be home soon, “We'll wait for them; She stated,

What followed was indeed strange, as I saw my husband driving with Collin next to him, many universes of stars and shapes seemed to pass through, like multiple scenes admired from a car window, as if it was somehow Kaleidoscopic. Each piece indicated a different universe! However it was clear that like the people walking by and everything else, they were oblivious to the facts, until he explained what he wanted us to know!”

Connected to many universes, focused on the one that had been perhaps replicated, “A more appropriate word under the circumstance than created.” My husband led the way controlled by The Deconstructing Man, as I will refer to him, followed by Collin looking cheerfully oblivious to the situation as usual!” My husband allowed him to enter and yet I knew the thing was not, for The Deconstructing Man had come merely to discover, he had started with the cup, though I believe in other times it had been a different object, perhaps even alive, though what was life to The Deconstructing Man, and why had he been so long without finding the answer?”

The Deconstructing man, studied Collin whom greeted me via a kiss on the face, and I, if not he, noticed the look on Collin’s face when the walls turned from green to white, whilst shadows of cells crawled inside as if trying to break through! Instinctively Collin turned to his wife for an explanation, it would seem she was closest to explaining what we all wanted to know, even though all had been revealed, or as much as The Deconstructing Man wanted us to know!

“Who are you? I inquired, why are you here?”

“I do not know, all I know is I have come to learn!”

“To learn what?”

“When I first took control of your husband’s mind I was intrigued by its complexity, then as I saw deeper within, I deconstructed, not in physical but in thought, I learned how the human body was formed, I learnt of cells that made up the body, I learnt of their world, for there is life within life, each working together, each with their own culture, I can see you as you really are, I can see how you are made, I know how each cell of anything is formed, I study this and I learn, I become one by adapting my molecules, I change the molecular structure of your house to communicate so you understand me and why I am here! And yet each cell that I deconstruct, each world within a world where species communicate, where planets exist within to create or to be within and stay created! I understand, although I want my learning to be complete!

Why?

“So I can learn how it all began, what was the cell that created it all? Why does it exist without?. or as you may inquire “Is there a God?” I do not know why I must learn,, or should that be continue to gather that which is deemed knowledge!”! For then we shall all know the truth of how the universe came into being! And yet I feel somehow I already know, however for some reason that knowledge needs to continuously be renewed until the true answer is discovered!

At that point The Deconstructing man made the walls disperse, we watched whilst cells crawled like bees amongst a queen, they were the building blocks of the universe and that was why he had come to study us, for wherever he had come from, whatever reason there was for him to be here. He knew we were considered to be the dominant species, and so we watched as he began the deconstructing of a small universe, in parts that was our own! And all the time I studied my husband, to see if he was still there!

Time past and we became aware of the tedium that faced him. For the more he learned the more things became academic. To go from universe to universe, from item to item gave no answer to his questions. And then it seemed he had one, for around us things began to cease, all we saw of worlds, of planets of cells that were like bees glowing orange neon, all were being killed for the answer had to be found! And when I turned away to look at Sandra I saw she was alone, for where her husband had been there now stood what could only be described as cells, of carbon, of magnesium, of oxygen, swirling as a mass of water in whirlpool similarity, Sandra did not scream, instead She took my arm and pulled me outside whilst the Deconstructing Man continued to dispense in hope of finding the answer, He was unaware it seemed of our attempt to escape!

“We have to get out of here” she whispered, we can’t let it achieve what it wants we know now why it is here!

“What about Collin? What about my husband?

“Emma, we have no bloody choice that thing is going to kill us all, can’t you understand that?”

“So what do we do, where do we go? If it is as powerful as it seems, if it is a higher form of Intelligence, one that learns and with each learning dismisses that it comes in contact with as dispensable, then nothing can stop it!

Yet Sandra was convinced we could still escape within our world, and yet when she opened the door of my house there was nothing except a blackened galaxy and no answer yet found.

“Where are you going too?” Inquired the Deconstructing man, I will find out the answer, I will not let you or anything stop me discovering how I came to be, for I know I am an important element within the beginning of time!

We knew there was no choice but to return, and so we walked, this time along changing structures of planets, beings and forms all before and then before that, And now it seemed that in-front of our very eyes the deconstruction of the universe was taking place!

Yet for what purpose? Was not the Deconstructing Man part of the very thing he wanted to remove? Was he not part of all of us? I therefore inquired:

“Why do you want to know all this?”

“To know why I exist?”

“Why do you want to exist?” Inquired Sandra, now understanding what was taking place.

“To live, to learn,, to belong!”

“And yet if you continue to deconstruct what will there be for you, who will comfort you, who will show you how you belong?”

Do I belong? Inquired the Deconstructing Man, Do you not want to know why you exist? Are you not as curious as I am, for I can remember when there was only swirling masses of gas, I can remember the first signs that became what you acll the building blocks of life, however I do not know why I am here, or what was my purpose within the realms of creation, and whether this is all random or the work of God!

“Maybe you are God?: Inquired Sandra, if you were the first thing that ever existed?

“I am not God, if I was God I would have all the answers!”

“Instead you proceed to learn, in order to discover why, something we all are seeking the answer too!

Outside as if in small containers, elements of existence were being formed, cells were growing, gasses were forming, I watched in astonishment, knowing that life was being not created but somehow renewed before my very eyes, for this being was indeed perhaps the very building block of us all, and why would it not possess great intelligence, if it did not how would anything have achieved the knowledge it needs to survive?

“I want my husband back, I said, and my friend want's her husband back as well, I understand what you are trying to do but you yourself have admitted you do not yet fully know the answer! I do believe however that you plan to return things the way they were, after that answer is discovered, but what if it never comes? What if the answer eludes you as it has eluded all others? “Do you know if you are the only one of your kind? “Do you really know if you are the first of your species?”

“I have always questioned that thought, and I believe I am not!”

“Have you never met any of your kind?” Inquired Sandra.

“Perhaps at one time, although I cannot remember!” said The Deconstructing Man.

“And are you alone?” I inquired.

“Though I am one with the universe, like all beings I sometimes feel alone!”

“Then you must understand that neither of us, nor anyone wants to be alone, we would like our husband's returned to us, please, if you can empathise as well as understand!

“I do, and therefore I will continue elsewhere to discover the truth, and return your husbands to you!”

And with that the cells in the shape of Collin became Collin again and yet the Deconstructing man was not without a feeling of disappointment,

“You do not want to know?” he inquired, you are content in your primitive ignorance?

“I am not content, not even fully in my world, none of us are, yet all the things I have, my home, my family my friends they are all I want at the moment.”

I could see the understanding returning to my husband’s eyes, as I took his hand and muttered, “I love you!”

The Deconstructing man studied me and slowly he began to confirm his understanding, for just as the universe was infinitesimal it was also multiple, not only of planets but of individuals, and the more I said it the more things came back into shape, and the more my husband began to return, for the Deconstructing man knew we were all in someway part of how it had began! And as things slowly began to return to the way they were, very soon my husband was able to inquire: “Where am I?” and smiling I replied, “Where you have always been.” and I clenched his hand, for we were as one.

The Deconstructing man continued to seek answers in some far distant universe , for now no longer in our presence we were more aware, and yet still I hope he understands the meaning of belonging as we all must!

The End