The idea of a Champagne cocktail bored her to no end, but it was Wednesday morning, what else were they to do?
Petit Foxes Part 1
It had just been a silly lovers tiff, but now they were late for book club.
The Hummingbird
“Because they look like birds in paradise," he said gently as he kissed the side of her neck.
She laughed at herself; how had she never made that connection before? The beak, the plume... it all seemed so obvious now. She knew it wasn’t her fault. No one had been around to teach her those things when she was little; but this seemed like something she should have figured out on her own.
She threw her arms around him and held him tightly as if through the simple act of their bodies touching each other she could absorb everything else he knew.
He lifted her off the ground and spun her around. The vibrant colors of the flowers blurred together like the bold strokes in one of his paintings.
Today was her 25th birthday but she hadn’t told him. No one knew. She hugged him again and had to restrain herself from biting down on his ear. Sometimes she loved him so much it seemed like the only way to satiate her heart.
The smoke from the campfire he built them last night still lingered in his hair and mixed with the fragrances in the garden. It smelled like a dream she once had.
A hummingbird darted past their heads, circled back and then stopped just above his shoulder. She stared knowingly at its wings flapping ferociously while it remained suspended, perfectly still, caught in a moment between the past and the future.
Greetings from California
“Greetings from California, wish you were here.”
She lied and pressed the stamp into the corner.
She sent the postcard knowing he wouldn’t come. That was the point. Sometimes, she just liked to torment him.
January always made her itchy like that.
Ice Cream
Nothing in class was particularly interesting that day. Danny stared out the window.
First day of summer, but it didn’t feel any different. Another perfect blue sky afternoon.
His mom loved to talk about the weather. He never understood why, but every morning, she’d give him a full report before he left the house.
"76 and sunny, sweetheart."
"Another beautiful day. I think it’s going to be 76 degrees."
"71 and a little overcast, Danny. Bring a hoodie."
This morning, she kissed his forehead. "76 and sunny for the first day of summer! Here." She pressed five dollars into his palm. "Buy some ice cream after school."
He pocketed the money and thanked her. He knew she couldn’t afford it. He also knew it would hurt her feelings if he said no.
His teacher droned on. Eighth grade would be over in five days, then he’d go visit his dad until August. It stayed light so late at the lake, they could swim until nine.
Ten more minutes until the bell. He tried to focus.
"Express log₃(x) - log₃(2) as a single logarithm."
But all he could think about was the fiver in his back pocket. And what flavor he’d get.
Then—gunfire.
Everyone froze.
The fake shots blared through the PA system again. Always louder than necessary.
A drill.
They ducked under their desks, just like they’d practiced. Lights off. No one spoke.
From where he was hiding, he could still see a sliver of blue sky. The tip of a bird’s wing as it flew past.
Peanut Butter Chip, he decided. With sprinkles.
The Blue Room
She sat at the bar nervously ripping the the label off her beer bottle. It had been six months but time hadn’t changed anything. She still loved him even though she knew she shouldn’t.
It had been his idea to meet here tonight, at the bar where they had first met three years ago. They spent almost every night together after that. The Blue Room was their refuge from the heat of the valley and the complexities of life. He would chat up the bartender while she played darts. Sometimes she played for hours. It reminded her of her grandfather; the only other man that had ever stayed in her life.
The bartender smiled as she ordered another beer; he was happy to see her again.
She moved to a booth with a view of the front and ran her finger along the seam of the banquette. The turquoise upholstery was starting to crack and fray. The door opened, flooding the entrance in neon red. Her heart jumped. This was a mistake.
Pioneertown
The waitress recommended the pumpkin pie, said it was the best in the world.
It wasn’t.
It was late April. She had known better than to order an off season pie but washed it down with a cold lager and listened to the house band play LA WOMAN.
Jim Morrison had been her first crush. It was strange how some people just didn’t seem meant for this world.
She wandered outside past the barbecue pit and the line of motorcycles, dusty from the ride out. She walked towards the sunset. The clouds reminded her of those painted candies her grandmother kept in a bowl in the living room. She never ate them. Nobody did. They just sat there. They seemed too pretty to be real. Same with sunsets.
She mourned the death of the day as night came fast. Darkness always made her restless.
Music flooded the moonless sky. It was far enough away now that she could only make out a few whispering notes.
She was tired but knew she wouldn’t sleep. Maybe she’d keep walking until she saw the colors again tomorrow.