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Return to Eden

Somewhere, out there in the darkness, is a regret trying to undo its inception.

In the Gutter, regret is what feeds our dreams.

Return to Eden by Ty Vossler

First there was blackness—blackness so deep that my last thought was the uselessness of even trying to escape it. In that final moment, I knew that I was tied to the Earth forever and that the blood and brain mix on the tile floor around my shattered head would somehow nourish the planet.
Then, as if suddenly jolting awake from a terrible nightmare I sat straight up and floated back to my feet. I saw moist spray and fragments of bone drifting away from me, and then rushing back in, the bones, fitting back into place as if my head were one of those damned jig-saw puzzles that takes about three years to finish.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Eve’s husband backing out of the motel room, and her screaming, “madA!” and then the door slammed behind him. Then I was sitting on the bed again. I rolled over and was between her thighs—back in Eden—such a glorious feeling coursing through my body, as though I were reborn. I heard myself growling with pleasure. The height of the feeling followed a slow, downhill path until I reached the beginning of our lovemaking and even then, the anticipation made me dizzy with desire.
Oh, what men are capable of saying in these first few moments, when the blood has rushed from our brains and into our erections—what we say.

As I slipped out of her, I heard the three words, brought forth by chemicals, because there is no such creature as love and never was. Just a release of dopamine that brings us back for more and more—makes us chase the apple in the Tree of Life, hoping for the same high, yet we’re always disappointed.
What the hell was I thinking, hooking up with a married dame. I must have had a hole in my head.

Ty Spencer Vossler (MFA) currently lives in Oaxaca, Mexico with his BMW (beautiful Mexican wife) and their daughter. Vossler is a prolific writer, and has published over forty works in the past two years, including novels, many short stories, poems and essays. He attributes his originality to the fact that he shot his television over two decades ago.