graydaisy
New Member
Three girls walk beneath the yellow glow of the street lamp. To their left, docked cabin boats bob slightly as the summer wind rushes along the surface of the water. The sound of dry brittle ropes tugging on splintering posts is reassuring to the girls. The erratic swishing as the uplifted bows crash back down into the surging water, an occasional bell announcing its unrest to the wind, goes unnoticed. Perhaps it’s because they’ve heard it for so long. Perhaps it’s because they’re not looking for it. The girls settle around the wooden lamp post.
Cate leans against the post, basking in the dramatic spotlight. She looks distractedly at her medium Burger King Coke and imagines being the star of nothing. Her weed soaked brain intensifies the light, the pores on her hands, the shadows all around her. She loves this moment. She can feel their envy. She twirls the waxed plastic cup in her giant hands and feels so tall, so beautiful, so perfectly alive. Every movement is like a slow motion movie. She tosses her head and feels each strand of her long luscious brown hair catch the wind and fall perfectly to its intended destination. She feels the light catch her eyes and she holds that position. She wants her eyes to sparkle. Is Michele humming? She looks up at Michele’s face. Now she remembers. Now she remembers everything.
Three girls approach a wooden lamppost and settle around it. Their distracted conversation had faded several minutes ago, but Michele’s thoughts linger on that last impossible question. How did that Kit-Kat jingle go? She has to figure it out first. She knows that the other girls are struggling desperately to be the first to remember, but this is Michele’s specialty. She will be so disappointed in herself if she doesn’t come up with it first.
She blew them all away once when she pointed out that the guy from “Suburbia” used to be on “The New Leave It To Beaver.” He played Duffy, the daughter’s boyfriend. Michele had such a crush on him. He was on the show “My Two Dads” before that. Back then she used to dream of being a writer. Then one day her beautiful, thin older sister got an award for her wonderful, amazing, perfect little poem about her ever so-perfect boyfriend. Now, Michele dreams of making money. She’ll be self-sufficient someday and her perfect sister will have to come to her for help when one of her many wonderful waxed, plastic boyfriends finally hits her in a spot that she can’t hide. Her beautiful thin sister will someday be fat, and someday Michele won’t. But she’s hungry right now. “Gimme a break, gimme a break, break me off a piece of that Kit-Kat bar.” The other two girls are looking at her. “I got it!”
She knew she would.
Three girls stand beneath the yellow glow of the street lamp. Each one settled in her own leisurely way. Azure stands awkwardly feeling as though she is waiting for something. What the hell is she waiting for? Everyone else is content. Nobody else is waiting for anything. She stands there flooded with synthetic light facing her two best friends, waiting. Or, are they waiting, too? Are they waiting for her? Should she make a move toward the car? Are they laughing at her? She can’t look at them. She feels their stares. They’re waiting for her. They’re laughing at her. Why would her best friends laugh at her like this? But they’re not laughing. They’re not even looking at her. They don’t care what she’s doing. They don’t care about her at all. Why are they just standing here? They should be floating around in her yellow Ford Fairmont laughing. They should be on their way somewhere. She looks up in disbelief as Michele bursts into song. Why aren’t we moving?
Cate leans against the post, basking in the dramatic spotlight. She looks distractedly at her medium Burger King Coke and imagines being the star of nothing. Her weed soaked brain intensifies the light, the pores on her hands, the shadows all around her. She loves this moment. She can feel their envy. She twirls the waxed plastic cup in her giant hands and feels so tall, so beautiful, so perfectly alive. Every movement is like a slow motion movie. She tosses her head and feels each strand of her long luscious brown hair catch the wind and fall perfectly to its intended destination. She feels the light catch her eyes and she holds that position. She wants her eyes to sparkle. Is Michele humming? She looks up at Michele’s face. Now she remembers. Now she remembers everything.
Three girls approach a wooden lamppost and settle around it. Their distracted conversation had faded several minutes ago, but Michele’s thoughts linger on that last impossible question. How did that Kit-Kat jingle go? She has to figure it out first. She knows that the other girls are struggling desperately to be the first to remember, but this is Michele’s specialty. She will be so disappointed in herself if she doesn’t come up with it first.
She blew them all away once when she pointed out that the guy from “Suburbia” used to be on “The New Leave It To Beaver.” He played Duffy, the daughter’s boyfriend. Michele had such a crush on him. He was on the show “My Two Dads” before that. Back then she used to dream of being a writer. Then one day her beautiful, thin older sister got an award for her wonderful, amazing, perfect little poem about her ever so-perfect boyfriend. Now, Michele dreams of making money. She’ll be self-sufficient someday and her perfect sister will have to come to her for help when one of her many wonderful waxed, plastic boyfriends finally hits her in a spot that she can’t hide. Her beautiful thin sister will someday be fat, and someday Michele won’t. But she’s hungry right now. “Gimme a break, gimme a break, break me off a piece of that Kit-Kat bar.” The other two girls are looking at her. “I got it!”
She knew she would.
Three girls stand beneath the yellow glow of the street lamp. Each one settled in her own leisurely way. Azure stands awkwardly feeling as though she is waiting for something. What the hell is she waiting for? Everyone else is content. Nobody else is waiting for anything. She stands there flooded with synthetic light facing her two best friends, waiting. Or, are they waiting, too? Are they waiting for her? Should she make a move toward the car? Are they laughing at her? She can’t look at them. She feels their stares. They’re waiting for her. They’re laughing at her. Why would her best friends laugh at her like this? But they’re not laughing. They’re not even looking at her. They don’t care what she’s doing. They don’t care about her at all. Why are they just standing here? They should be floating around in her yellow Ford Fairmont laughing. They should be on their way somewhere. She looks up in disbelief as Michele bursts into song. Why aren’t we moving?
