Spirit Of The End

Dove #2

::The day after, in the mind of the girl with the pink SD card:: : :

::Change in point of view, no more bird's eye's view:: : :

"Girl, I met this really interesting guy at Mac's Repairs. You know what he told me?" I wait for her to say 'what,' but I should have guessed she'd just stare at me blankly like always.

"Well, he told me, 'you sparkle like the light reflected on the water,'" I say enthusiastically. I smile so hard it hurts my cheeks.

"He said that to you?" she responds, her face is unmoving. She has a way of holding all her features in place, reminding me of the Mona Lisa. 

Holding this subtle upturn of her features, frosted, not stone cold.

"He said that to my eyes, but my eyes are mine, Maria. I mean, who says that? He was totally romantic. He deserves a tofu dessert," I say, already imagining how it will play out.

I was closer to her than most and enjoyed looking at her. Her appearance, or rather the way she presented herself, explained why she'd never been teased in all the time I'd known her, unlike me. Everyone could feel the pressure building and the space she occupied in a room.   

Everyday I'm grateful to have her, she's my shield.

"I'll do my best to look at you in that way too," she almost whispers, completely unfazed by my excitement.

We walk in sync, the streets singing the same song as always. The cars honk, and I hear the taps of other people's steps. A group of girls in burkinis bump into us, laughing a bit too loudly for us to believe it's genuine.

"They didn't even apologize. So rude!" I say when they're at a safe distance. I barely felt the impact yet, the intention was obvious.

"Agreed. They were so annoying, like the type who can be convinced the earth is flat," she says, supporting me.

"You're so funny, getting all that from a glance... I really want to see that guy again. Should we walk to the store after shopping?" Like that, I have already forgotten all bad emotions from the small incident.

"I mean, sure, but Rachel, he might not be there. You know that, right?"

"Yes, but he hit my heart like a thunderbolt. I'll think about it really hard, and he may show up."

"You are very good. I'll wish really hard for you."

I stop myself. "You warm my heart." I take her hand and hug her from the side.

She accepts the gesture but doesn't take my hand back; she's like an octopus. 

We both laugh.

::

The disc store is super bright. They changed the lights recently; the usual yellow that warms the room has been replaced with an array of mauve and white shades. They also have neon signs that hover over the racks of  "50 Most Popular." It's captivating here; there's always something to see. One disk holds my attention: "I Wished I Loved You Like You Do For Me." There is a bird drawn on it in white; I'm not sure what it is supposed to represent.

"Hey, look at this. Isn't it so sad?" I say, holding up the disk.

"For the receiving end, the person they are referring to is just a hindrance," she replies.

"You're the type to let go easily," I retort.

"I don't know what kind of idea you have of me. Your optimism is just deafening," she says, her tone sharp.