On a good day, especially when the weather permutations are right — when the air is cool, the wind is blowing and the sun shines right into my eye — I often see a future that I daren’t hold too close in my heart for fear the devil might see through the deepest desires in my wicked heart and take in away. And at that specific time, it’s a fleeting image right at the back of my eyelids - a quick glimpse in a blink - before reality snaps back and I sit back slightly pleased that no one probably saw that. On a really good day.
(On a bad day, the devil covers my eyes.)
That early morning, I woke up in a fit and you were still sleeping. And while trying to wrestle out of our tangled bodies, I decided that if I left that secret in an unsuspecting heart, the devil could never take it away. Because how can the devil take away something that you never knew was there? So in between gulps of whiskey, I managed to whisper something — softly, quietly, so neither of you would hear it.
And when I woke up, there was a sinking feeling and I knew for sure that I had left that secret in the wrong heart. For suddenly the future seemed too close to disintegrating on itself and I had been too stupid to know that the devil himself came to collect it personally.