Bored, I knotted the cloth strip into a bow. The music channel the cabbie was listening to was dull, but I guess “to each his own.” My taste was different, and it showed in my style.
I picked up the file on my client to burn time. “Annoying fly!” I uttered as I aimed for his butt. That’s when I noticed the window sign – PLEASE DO NOT KILL ANY LIVING THING. Thankfully, it continued to buzz around. I tried to disguise my anxiety as the driver swung around.
“How dare you swat at my Sugar Bell!” said the driver.
Amidst all this chaos, I felt hope. The accident meant Pop couldn’t hurt me anymore. Walking under the tree branches towards the hospital steps, I smiled.
The hanging chart said he’d flat-lined once already; now, he’s comatose. Hopefully, he got his financial matters sorted out. Giving everyone their slice of the wealth pie won’t be easy in this family. I’ll need to stay to make sure it is all worked out.
First, breakfast – a scrambled egg, and some coffee. How careless of me to neglect my needs. I guess I’m used to it being around takers all my life.
I have a story I’d like to tell. I made a promise to myself that I would survive. I grant you; it wasn’t easy. The only choice I had was to strip at the local men’s club after my boyfriend left me. I chose to trust him, but it was just a trap. Shame, though, because he checked all the boxes on my list. I know that doesn’t matter now. Sure would be great to wave a magic wand and change my sorry past. But I guess it’s good that I’m still here.
Stacey took a stand, for her sanity, and to retain her glow. She thought of that last blow – the stars swirling around her head, hearing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” after Chris’s fist pummelled her temple – elated that was over.
Charlie always made her blush. So giving and always full of cheer for her. It was tempting to wrap herself around him daily, running her fingers through the curl that hung crooked on his forehead. She was thankful that she remained open to receiving love again. He made her world shine again.
Should I shuffle the cards at the bar? For a brief moment, I thought of putting on a show, entertain them. It’s nice when they cheer. But then the surge of fans pressing in around me would fill me with anxiety. Still, with the tips I usually get, could buy me a one-way trip home. I could finally kiss this town goodbye — Le sigh.
Why did my coffee look like tan dirt? The steam coming off the cup was murky too. It made my stomach churn.
Slowly, I turned my head back to the glittery lights of The Strip.
I stood right in the middle of it, shaking visibly. There was no hope of escaping the anger emanating from this rally. The hate was palpable. One side wanted his reign to continue; the other wanted him to resign. All the while, he continues to divide us further. Villain or just a genius disguise as he throws shade on those most vulnerable? How can they not see he is such a charlatan? I watched each side form a human chain to protect those behind them. Which one will shoot first?
Shame! Gang mentality is astain on our country today.
The true thick brew tastes salty. It needs more milk and caramel. Sipping this concoction, I begin wondering about these millennials like the college-educated barista behind the counter. As individuals, I’d say they are responding to the current climate as expected, and I even think appropriately. I’d do the same, and I’m a boomer. They come away resembling a champ in my book. I like spunk. Give those boomers their marching orders, I say! The younger generation has rights too, you know!
I hand the barista my business card. “Luscious drink, tiger!” I said with a wink.
“Let’s ask the team who came up with the design for the lightprobe to conduct the experiment, shall we?” Kurt said as he motioned with his hands towards the salt solution. The dime immersed inside had a nice shine to it as we all gazed over towards the glass beaker. “As you struggle to identify on which side you should chime in on, as a student or scientist, please remember this evidence is part of an ongoing crime scene investigation, not just valuable practice and research for your education. DO NOT contaminate anything with your grubby, inexperienced little hands!
The shycats finally came close enough to my finger to lick the salt off of it. But suddenly, I was no longer enjoyable. They turned only to collide into one another, then left. I thought they’d like being mine, but they refused to follow me. They were free and intended to stay that way. Well, no matter, I had to forge on. The light was diminishing. Plus, it looked like it wouldn’t remain dry very much longer. I needed to get the perfect image for that fancy-schmancy style magazine. It was my last shot or lose my job.