in the flash light skies, phedrea smiles, dark horizon, darker dawn. on the road to nowhere, driving north, heading home. had a chance with never, a call with now, she says, 'hey baby, been a long time no see,' and i reply in a wry sarcastic way, 'that's because you married a possessive man with a brutal streak.' 
she needs to see me, i don't see myself but i agree, so we meet in an old cafe where they light candles, very europian atmosphere, a waitress takes our orders, she wants coffee, i want cake. 
she takes my hand and trades my future for her past, it's a tempting deal if your the heroic kind but i'm slightly washed out from being a knight, my armour is covered in dents. she's using all her ways and charms and it's working, those eyes penetrate what ever is left of my defences. 
the cake lays on the table uneaten, i have no appetite, she wants to check in to a hotel. i shake my head.
the alarm bells ring, go home go home go home go go go...
i can feel the keys in my pocket with one hand sliding through them, the other pushes cake towards her, eat it up girl.
in the window i see the reflection, a sad lonely man, an elegant beautiful woman, i look at the clock on the wall, five to one, one in five, no one here gets out alive, tick tock tick. 
if i smoked cigarettes i would light one but i don't.
what am i going to do?
i don't really know, i want to go home and get to sleep. this is going to end in tears no matter what action i take and she's all cried out, i glance at the bruise on her chin, 'you want me to talk with him.'
she gives me that look, i seen it before, when i spoke with him last time, the look of compassion wasted.
'last time he beat you to a pulp.'
'didn't stop you going back to him,' not just a hint of bitterness in my voice.
she's sticking the fork into the cake, breaking of a tiny microscopic piece and eating it, she seems to perk up. 'let's get out of here mission, we can go downtown, check into a motel.'
i bite my lip, 'i can't do that.'
i get the look, it's pulling me towards her like a rope attached to my head, 'come on, i'll drive you home.'
outside her house i walk up the drive while she waits in the car, she's not looking very happy, i don't feel happy and my confidence has left the building, i'm running on fear and duty, not a good combination.
he's already opened the door, and i'm stopping in my tracks, halfway up the path. hands search deep in pockets, fiddle with my keys, maybe i should at least get the first punch in, he's dressed in boxer shorts and a white stained tee shirt, smoking a cigar and holding a bottle of what could be vodka.
i stay put, assessing the violence to come, he's slow, sluggishly enslaved to his spirit, he's puffed up and walks towards me, each uncoordinated step brings him closer and closer until his filthy hot stinking breath is upon me like a repulsive wind. he looks me in the eye, then he falls to his knees, sobbing and blubbering like a wounded buffalo.
i'm prepared for the worst, for sharp pain, blunt pain, the hammering of his big ham fist into my chest, the kicks the names, the humiliation but this takes me by surprise.
he's a mess, drunk emotional wreck. i haul him up and drag him inside, he falls into a sofa and i search the room for some tissues. i grab some towelling from the kitchen, 'here.'
'i love her, she just breaks my heart mission, i love her but i know she don't love me. do you understand mission, she don't even care about me.'
'yeah i understand.'
he blows his nose, wipes the tears falling down his face and starts to breath, 'she left me a long time ago mission, there's nothing i can do.'
'yeah there is, you can let her go man.'
when his face looks at mine it's the worst look, a sort of resigned defeated oblivion. 
i sit down in a sofa chair, opposite, i'm tired and my bones ache. he's just sitting there now, quite and breathing like he's in some sort of trance, he's looking directly at me but it's past me, beyond me, i'm not even there now, i'm somewhere else.
i don't know what just happened but it was akin to some sort of fugue state, he seems to return to me, and his voice is frail, 'i have to end it.'
he stands up, his massive body towers over me, like a monument of hell, a warning to all men, your power is useless against beauty, he wanders away and returns later carrying a gun. 
'hey man, that's unnecessary,' my fingers attempt to prize it from his hand but we are locked in some stalemate, 'come on, let it go, this is not the answer.'
'you can't know what the answer is?'
'i know that it's not this.'
'i was a good husband.'
'yeah, i know you was but you beat her man, you can't do that, that's not a good husband.'
he swallows hard, for a moment i thought he would hit me, it seemed like the thought flashed in his mind.
'yeah i lost control, i hit her but she was pushing me and pushing me, you don't know what that's like.'
'yes, yes i do, she's a femme fatale man, i know her. man she could twist any man around her finger, pull their strings, get them to dance for her, even get them to kill for her, that's her power, she's a siren and we are all lost in her spell while getting crushed by rocks.'
'i gotta end it.'
he grits his teeth and opens his face up revealing, a graveyard of a mouth, ugly bastard, how did he end up with her i think, an ugly thought.
'you can't hurt her, i won't let you hurt her.'
'hurt her, hurt her. ha! i don't want to hurt her, ha! ha! ha! ha! he starts laughing, deep bellows, and tiny intermittent snorts.
when he regains himself he tells me, 'i don't want to hurt her anymore, i get it, that just makes it worse.' 
there is a loud crack, and the shot fires through his chest spraying blood cross the wall. his body just falls and blood pumps from the hole in his chest.
'stupid dumb bastard,' i mutter.
she comes running in, straight into the room she stands over the scene, it's a mess, gore and blood splatter everywhere.
she grabs my arm, 'let's go someplace mission, i don't wanna stay here.'
i unlink her from me, 'you have to call the police, report this, it's what you have to do.'
'oh, it can wait, let's go dancing, i feel like dancing.'
'no, this is serious, you have to call,' i say, adding a commanding, 'do it!'
'i don't feel like speaking to police, why don't you call them. you're so good with words and i'm just a little...disturbed by it all.'
already my body is moving to the phone, but i can feel the influence she has over me, over all men, it's soft and warm, seductive but there's something else, another quality, it's not threatening. that's the key, it's a voice that has no threat, a tone with only round corners. i've cracked her secret and picking up the hand set i throw the phone at her, she catches it and stares at me blankly, and in a forceful way i say, 'make the fucking call.'