
Guess what, guess what,' she says; voice tight on the edge of her tongue like a suicide jumper.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry - Words: 293 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 2 - Published: 06-19-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2687437
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-1Cynthia, Somewhat
Guess
what, guess what, she
says;
voice tight on the edge of her tongue
like a suicide
jumper
I have a date with a 25-year-old guy!
Her
voice embossed in a sing song,
pop star paisley, matching
perfectly
to her pink cell phone; the wallpaper
proudly
proclaiming 'princess'
in a
glittery script.
We all gaze at her, mouths
closed,
though teeth separate into small circles
before we can
stop ourselves;
we are all thinking that she is lying
(more
then likely). We see that she's morbidly
obese, with a
pension to laugh at her own
jokes, and clear her throat to thicken
the
silence,
we all stare at the flakey stain
falling
across the front of her unwashed black
dress.
Eyes
slant sideways, erasing each other,
trying hard not to deface
her.
I never thought I would be a cougar -
we laugh, on principle,
she told me once that when she was
a kid
her mother caught and raised a pack of chipmunks
and she
and her siblings named them after nuts:
hazel,
peanut,
hickory,
I
imagine the amount of snow that collected
against the sides of the
cage, while wild blurs
against the horizon become still,
and
domesticated.
We do have the same middle name; the
same
eyes swollen with first sight, while she
reaches her hand
out to a stranger
proclaiming that she plans to be
married in
the next five years,
although tomorrow, wouldn't be soon
enough.
She tells us foreshadowing stories
about the boy
who broke her heart
in high school; how for $250 a month
she
sleeps on the bottom bunk in a
house occupied with unwed
Christian women.
I smile at her, and before she leaves
I
wish her luck.
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