This is just a quick experimental piece. Let me know what you think:

Jigsaw Puzzle

Do you want to do a jigsaw?

What?

I want to do a jigsaw. I brought one. Do you want to do it?

We sit. We commence. Pieces scattered across the pine. Edges first: Make a frame. Her hair curls loosely. I like her as well as anyone else. More, perhaps. I wouldn’t love her, not unless she suggested it, not unless all the other men of the world faded away and there was only me left. I might marry her if she suggested it.

His jawline is a harsh slope from his ear, jutting angularly towards his chin, a few stray hairs are like wind-blasted gorse. I slot two pieces together. No straight edges: they could come from the centre or the periphery.

We reach for the same piece, our hands brush.

Suppose… no. I don’t know what I’m doing. The frame’s barely begun, but an orange begins to take shape. Fruit bowl perhaps? There isn’t a picture to work from. A few pieces still show green. She flips some. There are semi-organised piles. All the pieces look the same from a distance. All the pieces are disparate.

I hope they’re all here. Maybe we should count.

Leave it for today.

He fucked me. Because I asked him to. No resistance. I asked him if it was a kiss when he pressed his lips into my hair. Maybe he said, no. I kissed him then and told him to take me to bed. In the candlelight he didn’t smile once. Maybe once, passionlessly. We’ve barely spoken since.

How many is that?

Maybe I should count. I like him.

Sometimes pieces that look like they’ll fit, don’t. Am I less valuable now? Arbitrary. I feel dirty / directionless. It’s halfway to respect I have when someone knows what they want and take it. I’m half-jealous too. Wanting and wanting to want. We didn’t kiss.

Is it so surprising that they made love? Men always want sex, and sometimes women do too. Did you think he liked you?

I’m not jealous. Dismayed.

Perhaps we’ll finish it.

Tags: experimental, Fiction, jigsaw, Monologue, puzzle

This entry was posted on Monday, January 19th, 2009 at 9:47 pm and is filed under Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.