April Flash #16
based on prompts by:
Amygdala: lunch wrapped in a newspaper, bee venom; black and yellow; smart used to mean elegantly fashionable; across the table
Haredawg: its the last day of the first of your life; turn up the volume; you know your ignorance is blissfull
We sat across the table from each other dirty, plastic, full of footprints from an impromptu playground. We stared at each other, marked more in silence than in actual words, although conversation for us was never really an issue. You offered me a lunch wrapped in newspaper some kind of sandwich you had picked up from a corner vendor. I wasnt sure I trusted the flavor of ink on my rye bread, but picked at it anyway, just to be polite. Its awkward sometimes, when things change. You know your ignorance is blissful when you ignore the warning signs that glare like orange neon lights in the distance, preferring to think of them as street signs, pointing the way in the completely wrong direction. But you still turn up the volume in your old, beat up car, content to sway to music with a different vocalist each and every time, crooning old jazz, smooth ballads, flirting music. Grooving music.
I had ink all over my hands by the time I stopped pretending to eat. Only a few bites had made their way past my lips, to a rolling, churning stomach underneath. You watched me carefully, aware that as we sat across from each other now, we used to sit beside each other. Your arms used to wrap around me in the breeze, as if I needed protecting. You always were quite the charmer, telling me once that you were confounded by my simplicity and complex nature. I didnt understand. You told me that smart used to mean elegantly fashionable, but not with me it just meant brilliant. Although you claimed I was elegant too how much a klutz like me could be elegant is beyond me. On our first date, I was stung by a flying stinging thing I saw black and yellow, but wasnt sure what it was until you carefully took my hand in yours, removed the stinger and told me that bee venom was different from that of wasps and that I was lucky. I guess I was lucky in that it turned out I wasnt allergic. Memories.
I stood up then, rather suddenly, I think, crumpling up the newspaper and the 90% remains of sandwich into a ball in my hands. I touched you lightly on the shoulder as a way of saying everything that had no words to say. You looked up at me, eyebrows raised, expectant. its the last day of the first of your life, babe you said, softly. what are you gonna do with it?
I lobbed the newspaper/sandwich ball easily into the plastic lined trash can a few feet away. I dunno I answered, just as softly. anything I want. And I walked away, not looking back not pausing for a moment, no question. It was the FIRST day of the rest of my life, bees and honey or stings and sours. I was going to live it.
new prompts: circle of lies; redemption and forgiveness; spring lily