I turned left out of my neighborhood and jogged slowly up the hill. Fireflies flitted above the rows of corn. The only breeze was that which chased the cars that sped past me on some late evening errand. Behind me, the first stars of the evening winked into view. After the busy day, it felt good to be running again.

Bright blue?

Robin's egg?

Azure?

Beryl? No, not beryl. That was for water, the sea.

It had to be azure. The sky. Cloudless.

“Whatcha lookin' at? “ Kay had come up behind him. She sipped her iced tea and then extended her hand, “Want some?”

“The sky is so perfectly clear I swear I can see the blackness of space beyond it, “ he said, accepting the tea.

She looked up too, squinting. “You see weird shit honey.”

He was dying. She didn't know.

“You always know just what to say, “ he laughed and handed back the tea. Then, he leaned forward and pecked her sun-kissed cheek.

“Want to grill? “ she asked.

“Want to go out instead?”

“Want to grill?” she repeated herself, smiling and nodding.

He found steaks already marinating in the refrigerator and knew she had planned this hours ago. Singing along to the music playing softly on the stereo, he set about dicing potatoes, onions, and peppers. He wanted to grill those too, so he wrapped them in foil after drizzling olive oil over them and sprinkling a little sea salt and cracked pepper over the veggies. The grill was ready so he set the foil package on the the grate, closed the lid and stepped back inside the house to look for his wife.

He found her in the shower and popped his head in to tell her that the veggies were on and to playfully ogle her. After padding down the hallway to his office he retrieved the envelope marked “oncology” from his briefcase. He slipped the folded instructions from within and began to read:

You are going to die. It is going to be painful. You will abandon your loved ones after burdening them for months trying to ease your suffering. You are going to die and it is going to fucking suck. You are going to die.

He heard his wife talking to herself down the hall as she dressed after her shower. She didn't know. He couldn't tell her.

First Sip

He took a sip, savored it, swallowed it, and looked to her for approval. She filled her mouth and looked back at him, nodded, and extended her glass to ask for more.

...

“So, like, I finished grad school and got a job in Fresno. It's the geographical center of California. San Francisco was three hours north and L.A. was four hours to the south. The company I was with transferred me to Portland, Oregon.” Dab took a breath and sipped his beer. Andy feigned interest and tried to send a text while Dab stared into his beer. Andy had hear this story before.

“We were separated for, like, six months before she came up there. That's where she decided to finish her bachelors degree. I was, like, totally in support of her finishing. Well, I got let go in 2010 because of the economy. So, I looked all around the country for a job and just happened to find the one I have now in the corrugated box factory. She stayed behind and thought that we were over. “ Andy thought Dab was going to cry so he nodded, and tried to look supportive.

“So, she was working in this restaurant and totally got caught up in the lifestyle of the people she was hanging out with and ended up sleeping with, like, these two guys and wouldn't even listen to me even though I would tell her how beautiful she was and how much I loved her.”

“And your dad? He was into drugs and hookers?”

“What?”

Andy walked the quarter mile from Dab's place to his apartment. He couldn't wait to tell Jordan the latest installment of how messed up Dab's life was and revel in the safety of her embrace. They shared everything now. It often surprised him how easily he could share the things that he once held close. She seemed to have no compunction whatsoever about her life before him while he was often silently abashed to share even the most benign detail of his history. But, Dab's story was a treat into which they could equally delve. Dab had made enough bad decisions for them to both feel good about the silly things that were important enough to feel bad about before they had met each other at Cathy's wedding last summer. All of that seemed silly now.

Andy realized he misplaced his key so he rang the bell. Jordan answered immediately, “Is that you you babe?”

Author's Note

Everything on this blog is my own work. Each success, failure, split infinitive and dangling participle is mine alone. 

Read

Enjoy

Disagree

Dislike

Make a comment

Most of the pieces I post are either unfinished or so short as to seem unfinished. I may revisit them. Likely not, though. I have a habit, you see, of writing in very brief stints. Something may catch my eye or an idea may tickle at the back of my brain until I put something down. Then I set it aside. 

This blog is partly for my own enjoyment and an effort to stick my neck out. Neck sticking out activities can be scary. Sharing something I have written and liked is particularly so. You might not think the same. You might even tell me with blunt and ugly language. Yikes! 

Ok

(You? There might not even be a "You." How arrogant of me to assume.)

Five Senses

(from December 6, 2009)

I noticed some stuff on my run yesterday...

The click clack tick tack of my titanium cleats gaining purchase on the icy street,
the acrid and pungent aroma of wood smoke pluming out of stalwart chimneys,
bright red bows on boughs of fir,
squeals of gleeful laughter as children slide down neighborhood hills,
and the ice-cold feather-soft kiss of snowflakes on my cheeks.

You wonder why I love to run?

1.

In the beginning...