Oracle

a short story
The rain had only started to fall once Ricky was safe inside his apartment – the kitchen light
went on, so I knew he had gotten inside unharmed. The familiar golden light on the right side of my car
started to blink as I merged into nonexistent traffic. I reached for the plastic dial to elevate the volume
of the music playing, hoping to drown out my incessant sighing and the annoying squeaking of the
windshield wipers. I watched as several leaves from the overhead maple tree made their way onto my
windshield and get caught within the wiper blades, their poor bodies being torn apart as they were
pushed and pulled along the glass. I almost felt sorry for them, until my attention was diverted to the
sudden change of traffic signals. I looked back at Ricky’s apartment before turning onto the next street
and uttering a sigh loudly enough to overpower the sounds of Kimya Dawson. “Why didn’t you kiss
him?” said a voice from the back of my car. I tried to pretend that I didn’t hear it, but he knew I did.

“Excuse me?” I asked. It was futile. There was no avoiding him this time – my worst enemy was
in the backseat of my Toyota and he wasn’t going anywhere. Angst removed himself from the floor and
slid into the passenger seat just parallel to me. “I said, why didn’t you kiss him?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I lied.

“Don’t play that game with me. I know everything that was going on inside of your head. He
wanted you to make a move. You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I sighed and pulled the car over, parking behind a dark coloured
sedan. “I didn’t know what to do.” I strummed my finger along the steering wheel. Angst listened
attentively, waiting for me to continue. His teeth glistened in the moonlight, salivating, dripping with
disdain. He was reading my mind...again. “I...I was...afraid.”

I saw him roll his eyes and smirk. “You’ve been giving me that run for the last year and a half.
‘I’m too scared,’ ‘I don’t know what he wants,’ ‘I’m not sure if this is right.’” He rolled down the window
and let the bitter cold air in. “It’s nonsense, and we both know it.” I felt tears coming on, but my trying
to stop them was futile. “Oh, it weeps,” he laughed, strumming his fingers along the arm of the door.
“Tell you what, why don’t you just go on home, climb into bed and wish, just like you do every night.
Look at the clock when it strikes 49 minutes to midnight and wish on it, for the hundredth time, that
maybe, just maybe, this will work out.”

I felt his pity sting like isopropyl on an open wound – his words were so sharp and heated, I felt
the pain inside my heart and inside my mind. I knew it was the truth, but I wouldn’t hear of it. Angst,
he...he always knew. Everything. He could figure out what I was trying to say before I could even process
my thoughts. He lived inside me – every part of me – and observed. He took notes, and often times
commented. His comments were like that of a New York critic – firm but never rude, but very
judgemental. I wasn’t going to play the victim again, I forfeited that right long ago. That’s when I looked
to the side and noticed Angst vanish, his figure turning into transparent smoke, merging with the air
outside the car. I leaned over to his side of the car and rolled up the window. Turning back around
toward Ricky’s street, I parked my car just shy of the front door and ran up to it. I hesitated before
ringing the doorbell.

The door opened the moment my finger released the button.