learning how to finger paint
Date: Jan 12th, 2008 9:25:12 pm - Subscribe
Mood: intrigued
nothing bad ever happens at fusion. not to me, anyways. and mom is closing the cover on her laptop, and there's still an inch of foam in my mug, and i reach back to grab onto something but all i get is a flat wall, and it's hard to hold on to a flat wall, especially when you feel your heart rate rising and there's nothing you can do about it. and sarah's behind the counter in her rock-star t-shirt, and i think about how she's the best barista in the world at the best bubble tea establishment in the world, and if i had a sanctuary, this would be it.
fusion is my haven.
*
nothing bad ever happens at fusion. except tonight there was a couple sitting by the magazine rack, talking children.
"i don't care who teaches my kids how to finger paint," he says, picking up a golf magazine, reading the numbers from something horrible like the PGA tour, or something like it. his wife jabs her turquoise-striped straw through the tight cellophane cover on her bubble tea, and sighs.
my kids too, she seems to say, 6 boba up the straw, without a word. my kids too.
then he starts talking about maybe getting a job, but not if they are going to move, and something about how she prevented him from getting a masters degree. he's put the golf magazine down so she thinks she has his full attention, but he's making a Masters tour connection in his brain while she's saying no, it wasn't her fault, and yes, he could have taken that other class at ISU, she would've watched the baby.
"brian likes me better. always has. remember when he threw up on you that one day when he was sick, but stopped when i held him?"
she shakes her head.
"you didn't hold him that day, dear, because you were afraid he would ruin your work khakis."
she says dear through gritted teeth, like she's holding diamonds behind her tongue, and doesn't want anyone to take them.
"bull crap." he says. "that's bull, jane."
when he says crap he gives it two full syllables, and snaps his head forward on the last one, for emphasis.
her name sounds hollow when he says it, and before she says anything, she swallows up three round balls so fast she almost chokes, each one popping to the roof of her mouth.
as she sets the cup down, i see her thin fingers, and on her left hand, a simple wedding band- a plain silver, no embellishment.
she swirls the boba around her mouth with her tongue, letting the diamonds out.
*
nothing bad ever happens at fusion. the boy next to me on his computer has been there since 2, his girlfriend works the 2-7 shift, and he stays the whole time. i know because i saw him at 3 when i was there, and also at 6. he's studying American history, and has been for so many hours, I'm tempted to ask him something stupid, like, if he could tell me the names of all the presidents backwards, or at least tell me the name of every presidential feline (forwards)- things i know wouldn't be in there, but might stress him out anyways because he's been studying for so long. instead, i realize it's 7, and his girlfriend comes over and says let's go, and he says sounds great, with a smile that makes her smile, and for him, i realize, it's not about the place, it's about the girl who walks with him when he leaves it.
*
nothing bad ever happens at fusion.
Comments: (1)
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xbang_bang - January 12th, 2008 |
