Bride of the Tornado

by James Kennedy

Then I hopped off the ledge, I hung in the air, the world blurred past and suddenly I was underwater, fresh and cold and roaring, I splashed back up into the sunshine and then I saw the tornado killer. He was swimming in the quarry with me. Not inside my mind anymore. He was somehow right there, treading water, looking at me. This wasn’t part of my memory— But it was happening now. The tornado killer was swimming closer, he was laughing and I said “How are you doing this?” but he didn’t answer, the storm clouds rolled overhead and rain pelted down around us, he came closer with his green eye and blue eye so real that I felt my memory changing, like my real past was changing, like this was how the day had actually happened, we really had skinny-dipped together that day, the tornado killer was coming toward me in the rain and the clouds rolled over and it got darker and my feet touched the sand below and my back pressed against the rough rock and then he was close, his skin on my skin, our mouths met and it didn’t matter that this had never happened in real life, this was happening now.