From a series of short form fictions taking inspiration from collage
“You’re not going to the forest dance party tonight Cindy, I forbid you!” Sean Murphy glowered at his young girlfriend, recently showered and now towel-wrapped stood in front of him. In the six months of seeing each other, these were the first crossed-words that had passed between them.
“I’m sorry Sean, sorry for you.” She turned away, proceeding to wipe condensation from the bathroom mirror. “You don’t have control over my decisions. I’ll go wherever I choose. I don’t require your permission or approval.”
Jealousy rose up inside him – a familiar sensation of coldness he wished would leave him forever. He watched as she leant forward slightly over the hand basin, massaging a light moisturiser in circles across her pinked cheeks.
“They’re all Hippies, there’ll be drugs and everyone will be getting drunk. You could get into all sorts of trouble, probably set-off a wildfire.”
“Sean…” Applying eye-liner, Cindy examined her reflection closely. “You may have met some of them in passing, but you don’t actually know my friends from college. They don’t do anything more than smoke a little weed. And, you can’t really enjoy a good night’s dancing if you’re completely off-your-face drunk.”
He fell silent. He had no response. He knew he was being unreasonable and Cindy had intuitively sensed his conflicted internal struggle.
“Look,” she said, adopting a conciliatory tone, “why don’t you come along? It’s a beautiful evening for it – have you seen how wonderful-looking the sunset is? You can start to get to know my friends better. Mary, John and Peter will be there – I’m sure you’ve met those three before briefly, and Peter is a great talker. He’ll talk to anyone!” Cindy cocked her head to one side and beamed an affectionate smile to Sean.
“I don’t want to ‘come along’. I don’t want to ‘get to know’ your friends and Cindy, I don’t want you to go tonight.” These were Sean Murphy’s final words on the matter.