Halcyon

the girl with the empty wrist

The girl looked excited.
Friendship Day was finally here.
She had saved her pocket money,
meticulously in an earthen jar,
smashed it open,
collected the pennies,
and bought a pouch of shiny bands
pink, purple, glittery ones,
some with smiley faces,
some with shimmery flowers
all for her friends.

She'd been waiting all week,
counting sleeps,
imagining how the shiny,
shimmery threads of beautiful hues
would appear on her wrist.
who knows
maybe she'd have them
all the way to her elbow,
and she'd wave her hand proudly,
her souvenir of the day,
never unravelling those threads astray.

All morning she practiced
tying perfect little knots
on her mother's wrist,
on the leg of a chair,
on her pet dog's paw,
on her own reflection in the mirror.

At school,
the corridors buzzed like honeybees.
Wrists flashed with coloured
ribbons and hearts and superheroes.
She ran from friend to friend,
a giggle in her throat,
tying bands like gifts.

By recess, her pocket was empty.
She'd given them all away
to the meanest kid,
the most popular kid,
the haughty one,
even the one who'd called her bad names.
Because it was Friendship Day, after all,
and everyone loved those shimmery bands.

Until she looked down at her own wrist
bare, waiting, as if it had forgotten its turn.
She waited, and waited.
So what if they didn't tie one back
when she tied it to them?
Maybe someone would come.
Maybe a surprise would find her wrist.
Maybe someone saved hers for last.
Or maybe they just forgot.

She smiled anyway
the way children do
when they still believe
the next minute might be better than this one.
She tugged at her sleeve
to hide her bare wrist,
watched the others compare colours,
and laughed when they laughed.

The bell rang.
The classroom spilled laughter into the corridor.
She waved at her friends with an empty hand.
They waved back, wrists jingling,
elbow-deep in colours.

Her glitter-glue smile stayed,
but the bubble had burst.

At home,
she untied her shoes,
placed the empty packet on her table,
beside shards of the smashed piggy bank.
She went to the kennel, found her pet,
removed the friendship band from its paw,
and retied it in
an effortless, perfect knot again.

Outside, the sky turned cotton-candy pink,
wearing every colour
that should have graced
her delicate wrist.