guide to wonderland: tips for tailored tales

ch-003: love languages

"Good luck on the pumpkin patch, Mr.Garcia," Chiara waves as she and Madie step out of the market with nothing more than a sack of sweet potatoes.

Chiara paces in a beeline towards the truck, the wind nudging her along eagerly.

Meanwhile, Madie yawns and rubs her eyes, the pavement barring its dark teeth under her flimsy sandals—she stumbles in front of her sister, swerving her head and squinting at the dent in the ground.

Chiara covers her mouth, hiding her lips but rosy cheeks giving away the smile she was holding."You alright?"

Brushing herself off, the smaller younger of the two huffs."I'd be better if you didn't make me sit through pumpkin gossip every time we go shopping."

"Ah, I guess Mr.Garcia has been talking about those things more than usual lately...but you know he really is excited–swears up and down that his crops haven't failed him yet."

"How can you be so happy after talking about orange vegetables for an hour?"

"Fruits,"  Chiara flicks the drivers handle and watches as her sister uses both arms to swing her own door open wide.

"I don't really know, I didn't even realize we took that long. Still I could talk to Mr.Garcia all day, he's just so sweet."

Pfft. "You could talk to a plant all day if you wanted—and you have." The younger of the two hops up, pulling herself into the truck.

"I was doing an experiment–stop looking at me like that okay? Georgie told me that plants like when people talk to them, makes them grow faster."

Sunlight dances on Chiara's scalp, the warmth soaking into her wispy hair until she started to feel uncomfortably hot. shutting her sister's door, she steps into the truck and turns on the air conditioning.

"And you talked to her for almost two hours over that," Madie grunts as she slumps into her seat, creating a double chin from her childish chub, legs dangling and not quite able to touch the flooring of the car.

There was a pause in the sibling's debating when they hear a muffled blend of raising voices.

Next to their car, a puffy rice faced man with a pudgy belly held his hands over his head; eyes wide at the short stump woman beneath him, her arms crossed under her chest.

"They're always fighting," Madie mumbles under her breath.

"It's relationship issues really. Mrs.Routelle had been upset because Mr.Routelle doesn't spend time with her and her friends, and is always going to the city for business."

Madie watches as Chiara rests her arm on the steering wheel, fingers tapping.

"Mr.Rotelle tries to make up for not being around by sending her gifts every time he leaves so she can look pretty and have something to gossip with her friends about."

"Well then why are they still fighting so much? If someone gave me exotic presents all the time I'd stay happy."

"I guess it would've been that simple if she cared about gifts as much as you do, but she just doesn't care about that stuff and would rather spend time with her husband and show him off instead."

Chiara pauses, glancing up into the rear view mirror, already knowing that the curly haired kid was lost. "It's a grown up thing, not really easy for me to explain but they simply have two different love languages."