Her dull green dress reminded him of the ugly dishes he ate from as a child. They were cheap white dinnerware rimmed with avocado-colored ivy. He remembered picking them up in shards from the floor of his parents' kitchen infested with citrus colors. Those 70's colors, avocado, tangerine, harvest gold, and that weird muted red of old refrigerators, filled him with a dull, bland sadness that built into a torrent of dread. With a momentary glance, and he couldn't eat his breakfast Danish for the taste of stomach acid.
The next day, he took the dress from the hamper, and suppressing a near panic attack, threw it into a neighbor's bin with a sincere prayer that he'd never see it again.
For weeks now, he thought he was losing his mind. Sights, smells, sounds all brought back memories of his long-repressed childhood. Sometimes he wasn't sure if the events he saw had really happened or if the scenes were some sort of psychotic hallucinations.
A few days later, he had a panic attack while making love to his wife. She moaned "Oh John" in a timbre that matched that of his mother's voice. Shaking, he started hearing it repeatedly in his head. His wife had already achieved orgasm, and she mistook his shaking for his own, but he collapsed atop her. Finally, he went flaccid, and she managed to roll him off her, but he continued violently shaking and gasping for air while a low hiss escaped his throat.
Concerned, his wife dressed him and took him to the hospital. ????
The doctors admitted him to the mental ward, and he stayed stupefied for days. He saw blood stains on the floors and walls, and he heard moans and screams escaping from the radiators.
(To be continued)