THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE

"hit or miss" "i guess they never miss, huh"

It was a calm Sunday afternoon. Nic and I were watching our weekly re-run of "The Family Man" (2000) when I noticed he wasn't as captivated to his seemingly perfect, almost award-winning, performance.

He was glued to his phone. But not an elmer's type glue. Not fabric glue.

It was a gorilla glue.

"Sugar plum fairy kins," I called to my mans, "what's got you so wrapped up in that phone of yours.

It was his first touch screen phone. He had been suffering through the horrors of a Blackberry Curve and I decided it was time he upgraded to the new iPhone X. Even I'll admit, that phone was a little bit tricky to get the hang of, but Nicky was just so fixated on it, the bright glow of the screen reflecting onto his dreamy face. Maybe he was suffering from PTSD or something due to his traumatic experience with that Blackberry.

I cautiously walked over to him, Sundays are his days and I can't even think about getting up to tinkle while his movie is playing without being scolded and even hissed at by him to sit back down and not miss a second.

He didn't even notice. Strange. Peculiar even.

As I crept closer to my static honey buns, I could see the details of the phone screen much clearer than the florescent white glow. There was something playing.

How could something be so captivating that even he wasn't paying attention to his film?

I looked closer, Nic still not paying mind to me, and all it took was the sight of two pink bows to send me to the floor. Shocked.

"Nicky," I sensed the tone of concern in my voice as I called to my sweets, "Nicky what have you got there?"

He did not say a word.

I paused the movie, the current situation was totes more important.

After the background noise of the movie was silenced I could hear a faint voice. High-pitched. Slightly off-key. Familiar. Terrifying.

"Nic, please, tell me what you're watching." I didn't want to jump to conclusions, maybe he was watching a remake or something. There had to be an explanation. He couldn't be doing this. He'd never do this.

Nic continued to ignore me, and I had enough. I reached for the phone very super duper cautiously, like one of those dumb-ass Floridians reaching into an alligator's mouth for some ungodly reason. Probably to fish out their baby or small animal. Usually the latter.

But to my avail in a mere millisecond, I knew this was far more dangerous.

A sound I had never heard before, and Nic had a lot of sounds (not to get into our bedroom life but he was into that BDSM shit and the noises that came from this man's face hole you'd think he was a banshee), but this was like no other.

Nic had finally raised his head up, the glow of the phone casting an unerving shadow on his normally exquisite face. His features seemed melted in a way. Eyes were bloodshot.

My scrumdiddlyumptious kins was fried.

"Nic, darling bunny bear, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you," I said to my decayed lover. I haven't seen a lot of fried food ever since Nic and I made the switch to a vegan, gluten free, carbon free, non gmo, nut free, soy free, paraben free, zero waste, keto, high carb, low fat lifestyle, but when I say he looked like a burnt chicken nugget I mean he looked like a burnt chicken nugget.

He had this blank stare, all color lost from his face.

It was too late.

He was under the spell.

"Talk to me, fluffy mcsnuggle smooch, please," I pleaded. I knew that my direct communication with him was limited. It would take over in a matter of minutes now.

He just looked, and then he opened his mouth. There was a sense of hope, my brave and strong and courageous Nicky could overcome anything. I knew he had it in him to fight whatever was trying to take him.

A few murmers came out, nothing coherent. I thought I heard an "h" sound, he must be asking for help.

"Oh sweettart, I am here to help. Please, come to me Nic."

And then he spoke.

"H...."

"Yes, my love?"

"Hit or miss"

Oh God.

"Hit or miss, I guess they never miss."

Huh.