The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Emily

Sitting in a fold up chair and smoking a cigarette she looks out at the darkness and ponders. It has been a few hours now and still no sleep is to be had. The dark sky starts slowly turning gray and then a bright hue comes from the horizon. She closes her eyes.

Stomping out the butt she reties her robe against the cold air and folds up the chair to head back to her apartment. Splashing water on morning eyes and running slender fingers through red hair she smiles at her reflection. Though the mirror shows her age she smiles. A small fire from some deep place within her is still lit. Still burning.

Heating up a skillet and adding some olive oil Emily stirs two eggs in a bowl until they are a blend. She pours the mixture onto the hot pan with a satisfying hiss and adds a touch of salt and pepper. Two little feet prance around the carpet and into the kitchen.

Hey momma make enough for me!

Chris I keep telling you that I don’t like eggs.

Then why do you make them?

For you. Now get ready so we can leave soon.

The big-cheeked kid smiles and eats his breakfast while his mom continues getting ready for work. She finds these little independent moments satisfying and is eager to find just the right outfit to encompass the spirit of the day. Having dropped off Chris now, she thinks of her boss. She must get to work. Driving through a stop sign and doing a California stop on two others, she slows the car, shifts gears into park and subdues the engine. Walking to her desk Emily sees Carol as she hears the shuffling of papers all around her as numerous workers walk back and forth to their desk.

Hey, she says. You gotta stop coming in late like this. You know that just gives Ben a reason to come talk to you again.

Would you keep it down Carol, I am under enough stress as it is. You don’t know what it’s like to raise a son.

No I don’t. Thanks for rubbing that in my face once again. I think I’m going to give my mother your number and ya’ll can chat about when you think it will happen to me. She turns back to her computer.

Emily smiles and throws a pen at her. Writing for a small newspaper outside of New Orleans wasn’t exactly the dream job she had hoped for but writing in itself was and Emily felt privileged.

Carol was by no means shy or unwilling to communicate her feelings. She paired together well with the more introverted Emily who would sometimes just send an email rather than starting a conversation so she could continue her work. Ben Fleck comes slithering over to Emily. He is dressed nice and very polite, a real pro.

Hello Em how is everything going this morning?

She looks up at him with discomfort and looks back at the computer screen. I have told you repeatedly to quit calling me that. My name is Emily.

Ok. Emily. Do you have your piece ready for me? I need it by the end of the day. Ben turns and walks away.

Hey fuck that guy, Carol says.

Emily smiles back at her friend’s nod of encouragement. Inside she cringes. This guy is always hitting on her in little ways that she knows she couldn’t fully and accurately communicate to anyone of real stature. She needs the money anyway and doesn’t want to jeopardize things for her son. So she works. She types with an aggression. A misguided sense of purpose. A purpose that might one day lead her and Chris to new places and new adventures. Maybe there is love on one of these adventures? It has been very long indeed since she has been with anyone. Been even longer since she has been with someone she loved. So long now that she merely thumbs through the idea like a grocery list item as she goes about her days.

Picking up Chris from day-care and heading home now, she stops to get a bottle of wine. Something to ease the tension in her mind and body. They get home and she closes the door and shuts the lock. Always the first thing she does. The second is giving her son a snack so she can bathe before dinner, her third and last objective of the night. A couple hours later and they are both asleep on the couch with empty dinner plates in the sink and the stove knobs corrected to there off positions. Their day is over and the night begun.

The next morning she is up early. In fact, it is still dark outside; too early. She sighs, this is happening much too frequently. Annoyed she goes to the sink cabinet, careful to make little noise, and find a sleep-aid. Searching through small bottles of toothpaste and crusted over medicine cylinders that contain various colors of different shaped pills.

Damn.

No sleep-aids. Forget it she thinks and pulls up her laptop from under the bed. Pulling free of the lock by entering the specific pass code and she is in. Typing away now she is in her zone. This is where she lives and breathes. She writes well over twenty pages by the time she notices the sun starting to show itself. Mentally satisfied, she goes to turn on water for a shower so she can dust herself off again and come out clean. Be clean for her son who needs her to be clean.

Driving to work she suddenly remembers that she needs to head toward the coast to take a picture of a house that was recently burglarized. Stepping out of the car, she smells the salty air and feels the winter wind brush across her face and neck. The house isn’t huge and has dark windowsills. She looks out toward the murky water and thinks about leaving but grabs her phone to take pictures and then immediately gets back in her car and drives away. Something is off about the place. Sliding into her chair at work now, she waste no time. Printing out the pictures and examining them she then turns toward the job of writing the story. Carefully, she paints the view of an older woman named Beverly who, in the middle of the night, was attacked by a burglar who had broken in to her house to steal the brand new Samsung television she had just bought. He might have even followed her? Police caught him a mile away from her house trying to pack his newly acquired item unto the back of his pick-up parked down the street. Beverly was compensated and the burglar was prosecuted; an example of a society functioning at optimum levels. She writes all this down with precision and accuracy. Making sure to paint the appropriate parties in the appropriate light. Never make a mistake.

As I was saying, he just threw himself at me! Carol exclaimed.

She and Emily had been discussing the pros and cons between older and younger men. Carol auditioned that younger men were the key to a women feeling alive. To her these younger men were a prime example of American youth. To Carol, it was a symbol of pride to score such a specimen. They pounded her with great exuberance and got out of themselves what she needed inside her; release. Emily on the other hand wanted something different entirely. She wanted a friend. A best friend. Someone to share her life with and remain a reminder of something that was promised long ago as a child, something deeper. Maybe that isn’t possible? Not for her at least and these days she rarely dreams of such things as she accepts that this particular quest in life has simply passed her by. Passed her by like a slow moving train that begrudges on at such a low speed that she could have easily jumped on had she found an empty slot. She has more important business to attend. Her son is in day-care and its time for his pick-up.

Chris is a handful as usual. His limber body moves like jello as his mother tries to adjust him in his seat and lock in the restraints. Where are we going momma? I’m hungry. He protests with a sour look on his face.

Here is a fruit packet. Eat this and you will feel better, she says. Chris starts munching furiously on the pieces of banana, grape and apple that reside inside.

Hey would you want to go to a movie? I hear that the new Spider-man movie is out. Chris’s frown turns to a smile and appears to lurch out of his seat.

Oh yes please momma! Please!

They laugh together in unison on agreement of going to the theater. It had been a moment since they had been. With Emily busy and Chris wanting to always go home for video games there had been a small hole beginning to develop and she desperately wanted to fix the issue before it became too large for her to correct. They go and have a blast drinking expensive coca-cola and eating salty popcorn while seeing a wild man in tights perform vigilante acrobatics. Emily treasures Chris’s smile at the big screen and is thankful she can capture this moment with her son, if only by memory. Sometimes memory is good enough she thinks.

Exiting the theater Emily notices a man still seated in the corner seat. He looks to be asleep even though the lights have been on for a while now. She thinks on it once and then the thought fades from her mind as they head to the car.

Driving home now and there is nothing but the light of the dash. Chris is asleep in the back seat and Emily is at ten and two with little distractions. She makes it to her apartment complex with little issue and proceeds to fish her son out of the before heading inside.

Around three in the morning, as usual, she awakes. In a relaxing and rare dream of being with someone warm she is annoyed. She abruptly jumps out of bed to search the cabinets and walks away with two sleeping pills that she immediately swallows with quickness and without water. She quietly awaits peace and quiet and pulls out her laptop to keep her company. In an effort to write she sits up in bed and resumes her ongoing late night project that tends to be ongoing late at night. With an almost projected arrogance she writes and doesn’t stop to correct the errors. Let them be fixed later she thinks. Why waste time now? She speed types almost as if she was on something. Did she take the wrong pill by mistake? No she remembers. Ignoring the reason why and she writes twelve pages until the pills decide to work and she passes out with the computer still in her lap.

Momma wake up!

What? What’s wrong?

I had an accident.

She wakes and shakes the sleep from her eyes and stands out of the bed to find that Chris had vomited all over the floor in her room. Chris why didn’t you go to the bathroom? That is the place to go do this!

I’m sorry momma I was trying to tell you, he sobs.

Emily ignores his sobs and starts the redundant process of cleaning him up and putting him to bed and then cleaning up the mess that was created in the first place.

Hard at work the next day and she answers a phone call a little after returning from lunch. Hello, she says.

Hi Emily.

She freezes at the low tone. Not knowing whether to hang up or answer she does nothing.

I know you are wondering how I got your number. You will know more in time.

She burst from her bubble of silence.

Listen to me. I told you never to contact me again. If I see you I’m calling the cops immediately. My friends are one text away. Don’t fuck with me.

Hanging up, her hand is still on the phone and then off. She is breathing heavily and sweat is forming at her brow. Running a hand through her hair she tries to relax. How did he find me she thinks? She had used much precaution. She looks at Carol and shows her the anxiety.

In Ben’s office, Emily and Carol tell the story of the man from the phone call to their boss. Carol more than Emily. Ben sits back, takes it all in and decides to appoint someone to walk her to her car every evening for a couple months until this scare subsides. Carol thinks more should be done but Emily is gracious that Ben complied at all.

At home now Emily is fixing dinner while Carol is playing with Chris. Deciding to stay over a few nights Carol has brought a purple suitcase and a make-up bag. She figures she might be better equipped for the job of protection so she asserted herself into staying for as long as Emily would allow. Carol worries about her friend now more than ever. She knows that Emily is independent and careful but she is a little sheltered and Carol was not going to let someone take advantage.

Hey kid. What do you normally eat?

Fish sticks!

No he doesn’t, Emily says. He jumps up and down and hops into Carol’s arms.

Oh boy he sure gets excited doesn’t he?

Yes he does and he loves every minute of it. He will probably grow up to be in track or something of the sort. And no we are having something a bit healthier than that son.

No I want fish sticks!

Glass suddenly shatters in their faces as an object comes bursting through the living room window. The three of them fall toward the floor trying to cover up each other. A scream is heard. Emily opens up her eyes and they reveal the broken glass and now silence. The two women get up and look outward trying to see a glimpse of someone or something. Carol goes outside with a small pistol removed from her purse while Emily takes Chris to his room and locks the door. Chris doesn’t understand what is going on. Who is trying to hurt us? Who is trying to come in?

Do you think its him?

I don’t know but who else would it be?

What happened with you guys? I know you said he was abusive bu-

If I said something that Derrick didn’t like or I back-talked him then he would ball up his fist and hit. Knock me down. I got used to putting on extra makeup every morning.

They both look out the broken glass and see nothing but darkness. Filled with fear they call the cops and spend the rest of the night trying to explain something that they don’t understand.

Emily is at the office. Knowing that little Chris is tucked away at the day-care, she can work. Work in peace. This is one of the few places she can. Sometimes her mind wanders to the point where she can’t focus or make sense of things but not now. Now she is focused.

She finishes making copies of a few pages she needs to turn in and goes to her desk to clean up for the day while she waits. Tossing the pens and markers, shelving the open books and tucking away her phone she is almost ready. Ben appears behind her.

Hey Emily I need that scan.

It’s right here sir. She leads him to the copier room where she retrieves a couple pages off of a printer.

Here you go.

What the hell is this? I wanted the scan of Temple Street. Not this. This is the burglary house a few days ago.

I’m sorry sir I misunderstood.

Yea I guess you did. Ben walks away. Have that on my office before you leave today. Don’t disappoint me again.

Emily’s head hangs but she persist back to her desk and to her work. She is exhausted. Tonight she will be prepared and take two pills before bed. Can’t be too careful. Carol comes in and sits down at her desk beside her.

Hey are you all right?

Emily doesn’t answer and they continue to work.

Back at home and Emily decides to do some house cleaning while Carol and Chris go pick up a pizza. She lathers the soap and rinses with water and air-dries the dishes before turning to the task of retrieving all the toys scattered around the living room. Once the floor has been purged she starts the vacuum and runs the nozzle across the resisting carpet. She must hurry. Must finish before they get back. Not for their sake but for hers. She needs this to be done so that her mind can see it done. Maybe then she might get some rest.

With the immediate work done she swallows the two sleeping pills with warm soda and wets a rag to wipe the counter. As if her being done suddenly allowed the lock on the door to open Carol and Chris come barreling through with a steaming pepperoni pizza in hand. Carol lays it on the counter and Chris can’t contain his excitement as the smell of hot cheese hits his nostrils when they open the cardboard box containing the treasure within.

Oh that looks good, Emily exclaims. They watch television and eat dinner together. Chris seems to enjoy having Carol over even if he doesn’t quite understand why. Emily is just glad to have another person with her for a change. It’s been nice having someone with her to help make decisions about dinner and helping get Chris ready in the morning. She looks over at the two of them and thinks to herself how lucky she is to have these people in her life.

At Wal-Mart trying to get a few items she had forgotten, Emily inevitably gets to the clothing section and starts looking at a few blouses. Chris is growing impatient by the nanosecond and soon finds the opportunity to split. He slides between two ladies who marvel at his cuteness as he smiles and keeps walking towards the toy aisle. His shoes squeak against the shiny floor until he finds the dinosaur he had been looking for. The Velociraptor. It can rip you into a bazillion pieces with a few slashes and is quick as a cheetah. Chris is smiling from ear to ear when he suddenly hears someone come out of the bathroom and walk toward him. He feels the need to run away and his shoes obediently start squeaking. The stranger catches up to him in a blink of an eye and picks him up by his butt and mouth. No more squeaks.

Chris please return to the front service desk. Chris please come the service desk at the front of the building.

Emily is panicking. It has been ten minutes since she first reported the ‘code Adam’ and nothing has happened. Calm down she thinks.

Do you want us to call the police? The employee is plagued with guilt. She turns to answer them when a man runs up with his eyes as big as saucers.

Ma’am someone has your son in the mens room. He asked for you specifically. He says he knows you.

Before his last words are done, she is sprinting to the restroom before anyone can stop her. Kicking the door she walks in carefully holding a stainless steel nine-millimeter Beretta. She has it pointed right at the man who is grinning while brandishing a knife to her son’s throat.

Hello Emily. Nice to see you again. Don’t you look absolutely stunning these days?

Derrick. Give me Chris and we can all go home. She looks down at a terrified Chris.

Honey it’s going to be all right. We will be home soon.

Chris is whimpering as Derrick doesn’t move an inch and keeps the knife very close to the skin.

I wanted you to understand and you wouldn’t listen.

I listened to you Derrick but that doesn’t make up for you and the past.

Derrick smiles as he looks down at Chris. Oh yes. The past can be quite painful.

A deafening shot rings out across the bathroom and shatters against the wall. The mirror is wobbling and Chris is wailing. Emily takes a quick look at the indent in his forehead before stuffing the gun in her purse and takes Chris away.

.

Mr. Williams wasn’t a man of great stature but of great intelligence and he would use that to his advantage when talking with a client. He enters the office now and Emily shifts in her chair.

Hello Emily how are you today?

I’m ok I guess

Ok well what is the guess?

I lose track of what I’m doing. I just haven’t been sleeping well.

What do you mean exactly?

I mean that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I forget where I am. I remember pretty quickly but it is frightening. I worry about what I’m supposed to do with myself. Sometimes I think about whether or not these thoughts will still be with me afterwards.

Does death scare you?

No. I often think about how relaxing it would be. I wouldn’t even know it. I’ll just stop existing and thinking.

Mr. Williams writes on his pad. To be dead is to be relinquished of all thoughts and worry. While this may seem great in theory, I fear it would be unsatisfactory in execution. Granted you wouldn’t even know it because as you said before ‘you would be dead’. However I would argue that this be the exact reason you keep going and enjoy all of the great things in front of you right now. You have a great son who adores you and needs you badly. You have a job where you can write and do what you enjoy. Things can get boggled up in our mind until we don’t know what we are doing or who we are doing it for but it just takes a few corrective thought patterns to get back to neutral and realize that we do indeed have a lot to live for.

You are right. Life can just get so cloudy so fast and before I know it my mind is playing tricks on me and mistakes get made as if I have no control.

Life has it’s own agenda. Remember that. No single person has gone through life and said that this has gone exactly like I planned. Nobody. Life has a way of changing the plans that we make. However, that doesn’t mean that we stop and give in to the deviant notions of giving up. What would your son do? What would your family do? Just because we may not seem to matter much in the big picture does not erase the little picture that is right in front of us.

You are right.

So how is everything concerning the incident? Have you been dealing with that better?

Oh yes. The first night was difficult but I got a little sleep and now I’m better. I don’t regret my decision at all. I was protecting my son.

Good. He looks up from his notes. I want to tell you that I hope you get some better sleep this week. I know you use some sleep-aids occasionally but just remember to use them with caution.

Of course.

I also want you to know that things get better. Maybe not today or tomorrow but things do get better. I’ve heard that time’s greatest power is that of healing and I believe it. Just give it a little more time and things will turn around. He smiles.

It’s not so bad. She wants to see her son and heads straight in his direction even though it’s a little early. No matter she thinks. He will be glad to see me and I need him. That’s what matters. I need him and he needs me. In a hurry she goes to pick up little Chris across the hall and they go home. Enough has been asked of them today. She fixes him fish sticks and they snuggle with each other while watching television. It is dark with only the glow of the television and the ceiling fan is hard at work doing its job to pump out air at high speed. Chris and Emily are fast asleep on the couch with a blanket over them and things are nice. Things are better now. Time for sleep and sleep Emily does. She doesn’t wake up once through the night.

Don’t tell me, you got him over there on Fourth Street? Over they’re by the gym. Yea I’m not surprised.

Carol is putting on lipstick and talking at the same time. Emily has been lucky in that she was asked out to dinner this morning.

He was cute though, Emily protested. Granted, they didn’t talk very long and she didn’t have enough time or conversation to grasp anything further but he was an attractive man. They met at the office because he was the new intern.

Tim was his name, Emily said. He told me I had beautiful green eyes. Carol loved that Emily had found a younger man and oood and awed over Tim with her friend all day at work and she gave clothing advice that Emily asked about and plenty of other unsolicited advice as well. Tim had asked her to dinner at Dino’s which was a bona-fide seafood restaurant. It came highly recommended. She was nervous. It had been far too long since she had been on a date and even longer since someone had come out of the blue to ask her out.

Back at home now, it was serious. She took a shower and washed everything possibly applicable. Getting out of the shower she realizes the time is not on her side. Blow-drying her hair and brushing her teeth at the same time Chris walks away from the television and into the bathroom to see his mother.

What are you doing momma?

I have business I have to attend to tonight Chris. Auntie Carol is going to stay with you and you both are going to watch movies. Chris smiles. That sounds fine to him. He goes to hug her leg and trips on the residual water left on the floor.

Whoops! Are you ok bud?

Yea I’m ok. He goes back to his seat in front of the television. Applying the finishing touches to her make-up she drags the dark red lipstick against her stretching lip. There she thinks. Almost done. A loud knock comes from the door three times making solid noise upon contact. No need to cop-knock she thinks. Walking sharply to the door, she opens it revealing her best smile.

Hi Tim. You ready?

Oh yes miss Emily. Right when you are.

Tim is dressed in a nice dark blue suit and bright white tie. He is immediately introduced to Chris to which they shake hands and Tim tells the boy that he is accompanying his mother to a meeting with other newspaper businessmen. It was partly true. He was definitely accompanying her.

On the road now to Dino’s Tim does his best to keep the conversation nice and fluid. In fact he is exceptional. He has done this before. He asks all of the appropriate first date questions like where was she born? You like hip-hop music oh so do I! How long have you been in Louisiana? Oh me? Five years, I love it. Writing is my first love. Have you been to the coast? Oh I have to take you some time!

When they finally get to the restaurant, Emily is appreciative to be out of the car and into fresh oxygen. Walking in now, he puts a hand across her waste and holds position as they make way to the hostess. They have a good time but to Emily it all seems vaguely superficial. Like she is in an episode of some sitcom. The conversation seems rehearsed and while the food is spectacular the atmosphere seems plastic. She wants to leave. Tim is nice looking but he is not exactly what she expected. What did she expect?

Emily?

Oh sorry, yes?

I was asking you about the stuffed oysters, do you like them?

Oh yes they were wonderful! But I’m afraid they have made my stomach upset. She stands up now.

I am sorry to leave like this but I think I’m going to be sick.

She walks away briskly holding her stomach. Tim is left holding his fork in hand with words still in his mouth. In truth the oysters were to die for but her stomach is fine. It is relief she needs and used the only option vaguely worthy. Running outside she starts walking home in the cold. She doesn’t care. Emily needs to be home. Needs to see her son and be sitting on the couch with blankets over both of them to keep warm.

She sees businesses flooding with people on both sides of the street all scrounging to get some meager scraps for their dollar. Right now she despises them. Her heels make a loud sound against the concrete sidewalk as she turns a corner and accidentally runs into a group of young men. Each wearing basketball jerseys and smoking cigarettes these boys take a liking to this woman who just ran into them.

Hey girl where are you going? You don’t have to run off. Come back here!

Emily knows enough to keep on walking but the man doesn’t like being ignored. He runs up to her and grabs her by the top of the hair and pushes her toward an establishment wall.

Did I stutter bitch? I asked you where are you going?

I’m going home. Get off of me!

The man laughs and his two friends come up behind him to join in the intimidation. Emily feels panicked. She isn’t sure what to do. Which option to take in this dilemma has proven unattainable and she panics.

Get your hands off of me!

They all three laugh and force her into the alleyway a few yards down. Suddenly a man pulls up in his yellow taxi waving his arms about and yelling at these men to let this woman go.

Get out of here you bastards! I have called the police and they are on their way.

Shut up old man get the hell out of here.

The old man laughs as he sets his phone down on the hood of his car and pulls a 38-caliber pistol on the three men who finally realize their situation.

Now you let her go. Right now! Or I’ll shoot you dead I swear to god! I’ll be under my rights too, saving a sweet young lady from three filthy hoodlums.

The men let her go and Emily rushes with her belongings to the taxicab. The gun is still pointed toward the three men as the savior grabs his phone and inches back into his car before taking off and rounding the corner block.

Are you all right? I was worried I was too late when I saw you.

No I’m ok. Thank you so much for stopping for me.

The taxi is driving and she hasn’t told him any direction to drive toward. My house is a few blocks around the corner on 5th. The yellow tinted garage.

Ok sweetie. I’ll get you there.

He continues driving and her lap starts to vibrate. She feels for the phone and digs it out and sees that her mother is calling.

Hey mom how’s it going? What did your doctor say?

The driver looks back at the conversation behind him.

Yes mom I’m doing ok. Chris is ok too. We are all doing fine. I’m glad you are feeling better. I’m sorry I haven’t called you. Mom I’m sorry ok? I have meant to call you. I’ve been busy with work and with Chris. Yes I will call you soon.

Some more words are blaring out of the phone and Emily decides to hang up. She can’t take that right now. The taxi pulls up at the yellow garage. Ok is this your place?

Yes thank you. Thank you so much for everything,” she says. “How much do I owe you?

Nothing dear. Nothing at all.

Are you sure? I have to pay you something for what you have done for me. She reaching into her wallet and digs around until finding what she wants and hands him a 50-dollar bill.

Thank you so much helping me like you did.

I’m just glad I saw you when I did. You need some pepper spray or something if I may suggest ma’am. You take care now.

He drives away and she takes one last look before heading home where she won’t speak of what happened.

Walking up the stairs to her door it is opened before she inserts the key. There you are! So how did it go? Carol asks in a loudly hushed whisper. It was fine I just wasn’t feeling it. Emily walks inside and slumps on the couch.

He was nice but just god-awful at conversation. I had to pick up the slack the entire time and the questions he asked me were horrendous. Disappointing.

Yea but how was the sex?

There wasn’t any sex Carol! I got out of there. I couldn’t stand to be in that suffocating place one second longer.

Wait, you didn’t have sex?

Emily sighs loudly and walks into the kitchen to get some cheese and crackers. Babe getting laid was the entire point of this evening!

Not for me it wasn’t! I was hoping that we would have a connection or at least find one.

That’s what sex is typically used for babe.

Emily waves her hand but Carol persists. Think about it, two people stuck together who don’t have anything in common and maybe even dislike one another will eventually be persuaded by life’s built in aphrodisiac. It is inevitable.

You know what you are right. Goodnight.

Emily turns to her bedroom while turning out lights along the way.

Gasping for breath Emily looks around panicking. Instinctively turning to the alarm clock she sees the red slashes giving way to their message of 3:47 a.m. Emily springs out of bed and rips the blankets off with rage. Standing now and pulsating with sweat she calms her breathing and starts to make her bed as neatly as she can. Deliberately and with careful attentiveness. She cuts the corners and tucks the sides before mounting the appropriate pillows in the appropriate order. Admiring her job she retrieves her laptop and goes to work. No sense in letting a little misfortune spoil her fun. Fuck the sleep-aids.

It was on a Tuesday that he walked in; looking at me the entire time he did so.

Is that any good she thinks? Emily stretches her pinky and erases the sentence.

Tuesday evening and I was scorching hot. I wiped my brow before skating off to the next car. Upon arrival I found that my customer was none other than James Decker and I froze with panic. He was one of the most handsome kids in my school and I’ve had a crush on him for months now.

That’s at least a little better she concludes and continues on. She enjoys this time. Time where she can sufficiently contemplate things that she has had to postpone inside her mind. And now, yes, she can start to articulate these little buggers. Through telling some little story that very few souls will ever read she is able to hook up to herself. Log-in. There she will be able to express and allocate her intentions. Emily takes intermittent sips of water as she sees a picture being formed in her head. Slowly but surely she will figure out what this story might be about. Chris comes walking in the room wearing only his polka-dotted pajama pants.

Momma I can’t sleep.

I’m sorry bud do you want to come up here and lay down?

Without a word he jumps up on the foot of the bed and comes crawling beside her. What ya doin?

I’m writing a story bud. Would you like to hear what mommy has so far?

He nods his head and Emily reaches to turn out the lamp and proceeds to read black words from a white screen in the darkness.

Heading home from work and Emily decides a warm cup of coffee would feel nice amid all the cold and the gray. Black coffee with some white cream would surely add some much needed color. Warmth and color. That is what Emily seeks. Walking into the local deli she smells hot Columbian coffee and walks forward to the fresh brew following her nose. Paying for the beverage with cash instead of plastic, she receives change and a penny inevitably finds its way to the floor and under the panel. Forget it she thinks. The floor might want it.

She finds a seat in the corner of the building and looks outside at dozens of people walking to varying places with varying degrees of aptitude. Some walk. Others saunter. A few bump things up to a canter or even a jog up and down the street. Emily studies these people and is interested in their stories. Some may be arrogant tax collectors. Maybe lawyers and nurses or fast-food workers. All with the same notion and belief that they are headed for somewhere of importance. A ritual performed with the same vigilance no matter the attitude. Routine is important. It will be attended to and vouched for.

Emily is a little startled when someone takes a seat across from her suddenly. She looks around to see if this is a joke but the young Hispanic man is unwavering. Emily plays along.

Hi.

Hello. What’s your name?

My name is Emily and yours? Do you usually just waltz in to other people’s tables?

Only when they contain women as attractive as you. I’m Gabriel.

Emily smiles and shifts in her seat. Well listen Gabriel I don’t know how old you are but I’m guessing too young ok. I appreciate the comment though.

He smiles. You have a good day. Hopefully I’ll see you again. If I do I’ll know to come over and talk to you again. It would be fate no?

Maybe so Gabriel.

He walks away without looking back. A real lady-killer she thinks. Emily is flattered. Sipping her coffee she laughs about how weird that was. She decides that it is time to leave and go to her boy. Walking out she turns around to look for that young man before letting the door close behind her and going home.