An Opposite Reaction

I don't know quite what I am or how I came to be where I am, as I am. I live in a confused, confusing world. All I can see is a dazzlingly bright light and colourful shapes that regularly enter and exit from view. Occasionally a brilliant flare shoots across the horizon at astonishing speed. These things I see are in many ways paralleled by what I hear: a constantly rumbling cacophony punctuated by high-volume blasts that explode at unpredictable moments. Living in this envelope of sensory assault is disorientating and disturbing.

What's more, I have no control over my location. If ever I find myself in a relatively peaceful position then, nothing surer, I'm forced to move on. Most of my life is spent shifting from one place to another, but I don't know why. Even my shape changes, and I have no power over this, either. Broadly speaking, these alterations in shape happen in two ways. First, there are the abrupt, sudden motions. Sometimes these are repeated and become predictable; other times I find a piece of me shooting out in a most alarming and unexpected manner. Second, is the slow, regular transformation of my overall shape. As I change, my form can encompass anything from a squat, circular blob to an impossibly stretched beanpole. But perhaps worse than all of this is that my constitution, my density - my very self - also fluctuates. On some occasions I seem as solid and impenetrable as a steel bar. Other times I feel as insubstantial as a wisp of smoke, culminating in periods where I just 'switch off'. Disappear. But I always seem to come back.

Amidst this world of powerlessness, change, and confusion, the only stability I ever experience is when I sense one of my own kind nearby. You see, I don't have much of a physical sense of touch, but I can feel things. Sense things. Somehow, just to know that there are others like me is comforting. Recently I've been sensing one such presence, and it's coming back at increasingly frequent intervals. I look forward to our 'meetings' - these all-too-brief moments of calm.

I wonder if it feels the same way?

*

She had not accepted his offer to move in with him without reservations. They had, after all, only been going out for three months. And, on the odd occasion, she did get a glimpse of a violent temper lurking beneath the calm surface of his apparent good nature. Still, she thought at the time, this is love, and love conquers all (well, that's what they say isn't it?).

The first couple of weeks were blissful. She couldn't have been happier. He was ever the doting partner, and she could find little to fault in him. Then, one Friday night, after a long drinking session with his mates, he turned on her. Not physically, but with real vehemence. Although that shocked her deeply, she hoped that maybe it was just a one-off. But it wasn't, and as the weeks slowly passed, his tantrums became more frequent.

After only two months together, she found herself depressed and considering leaving him.

*

I feel the presence every day now. It's wonderful! I'm so happy when it's near. And now I'm sure it feels the same way. I can't say how I know, I just know. Having one of my own kind so close is both wonderful and frustrating. Although I'm so happy when we're 'together', I want more. Each time we meet, I don't want us to be torn apart almost as quickly as we're brought together. And I want to be able to communicate with this being, this new friend of mine.

I want to be able to touch.

*

One beautifully sunny Saturday afternoon, she suggested a trip to the beach: a peace offering, a chance to work things out. He agreed very reluctantly - New Zealand were playing England, and he always watched the rugby on TV. But she finally persuaded him to leave his beloved armchair, emphasizing how important it was for the two of them to spend some time together, to really talk. However, by the time they reached the sand, he was in a foul mood, the six-pack and oval ball beckoning strongly. Undeterred, she was determined to at least try. But it was no good. Whenever she attempted to discuss their problems, he just snapped at her. Soon, he was yelling again. So, instead of talking, they just walked along the beach in silence; close to each other, but not touching, not holding hands. Under the glare of the bright mid-afternoon sun, their rigid forms cast long shadows on the moistened sand.

*

Today, finally, my friend is staying close to me for more than a few seconds. I feel tall and strong and can sense the presence oh so strongly. As I bask in the glow of these sensations, the need for more, to take our relationship further, overwhelms me. Suddenly, I swell and explode:

"I love you," I say.

My words cut through the discordant reverberations swirling around me. For once, sounds in my world convey meaning.

"I love you, too," comes the reply. I've never heard anything more beautiful.

I want to touch.

*

She decided she'd give it one more go. She had nothing more to lose - or so she thought. Sadly though, the moments that they had trudged along in silence had only served to deepen his black mood. So as soon as she opened her mouth, he was off again, ranting angrily. With tears starting to flow, she realized it was time to give up. She'd tried, but she just couldn't get through to him. It was over, she screamed at him. Over. As her words sunk in, something welled up from deep within him. In a flash, he struck her - hard - and as he did so, their shadows also touched, in a joyful consummation of their love.

Blood flowing freely from her nose, she picked herself up and ran and ran, taking her shadow with her. From that moment on, a chasm yawned between the two shadows, a gap filled only by their constant yearning.

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