We made a pact that summer. Ten years later, when we were twenty-six, we would ALL still fit in our jeans — the same jeans we were wearing that day. We all felt we could live up to that promise. It was an optimistic summer. Read more…
I went to the studio to see if he still worked there. It has been a year since we met, and I was certain I was just one of the many faces he saw that day. I remembered him distinctly wearing a black jacket, white shirt and slacks – his uniform, actually. And then I found myself back at his workplace, one year later, just wondering if he still worked there…
His head turned towards me and he smiled back. “Hi! Can I help you?”
“Uh,” I stammered. “I was um, wondering when the next tour schedule is.” How could I have thought he’d friggin’ remember me? Read more…
Gentleman in the business suit. Trying to read the paper. I know he’s trying to. He hasn’t flipped the page in the past five minutes. And his eyes aren’t moving in that reading way. Maybe he’s thinking of the girlfriend he broke up with this morning. He regrets it now, knowing it was just a moment of weakness she gave into. If he took her back though, she might do it again. He’s a romantic with limits. Read more…
The snow is falling quietly outside. I gaze out the frosted window and see nothing but white and the deep blue evening. (It is Christmas eve.)
A small fire lights my cottage, my only source of warmth as well. This winter is cold, too cold. A shiver passes through me as I take a seat by the fire. (No memories keep me warm.) Read more…
5.
Crayons melted over candles. Blue drops on white paper, marbled with yellows and greens. He spins the paper around while she drizzles the melted colors. Their teacher gives them gold stars and makes them an example of good teamwork. The boys tease him, the girls giggle, the two feel embarrassed and decide to hate each other. Cooties are contagious after all.
10.
She had chased the ball too much and there she sits at the clinic with a badly scraped knee and bruised ego. She really thought she’d save the game. He comes in with a wave and hands her a Hello Kitty band-aid because regular beige ones plain suck. She walks around later that day feeling more healed than when her Mom kissed her boo-boos.
Jamie sped through the streets, imagining she had fairy wings. It changed to wings of fire, then later shifted to angel’s wings. Whatever her wings were made of, they made her speed through the neighborhood’s streets faster and faster.
She was a goddess in flight.
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One-handed didn’t quite work out. She took one egg in both her hands and cracked it forcefully against the bowl. The insides slid gracefully into the container. That seemed to work.
Repeat. Crack. Slide. Read more…