Lil' Short Stories

LIGHTS! CAMERA!

Red leather, yellow leather. Red leather yellow leather. Red leather, yellow leather.

Toy boat. Toy boat. Toy boat. Toy boat. Toy boat.

Me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me!

"I'm ready!"

. . .

"I cannot believe you! We've been together for almost 4 years and now is the time to tell me that you don't love me anymore!?" She screamed at the top of her lungs on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

"Lane, please, try to see it from my point of view." His voice was level and calming, but Lane was not letting soothing words break through her exploding fury.

Her face relaxed immensely, looking defeated. "I won't take anymore of this. I want all your things out of my apartment and do it quick before I get back home." She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to bolt down Madison Avenue to her place." And don't even think about taking Penelope! She's mine!"

Travis went skipping down the steps two at a time and gave Lane an unkind hand gesture and sped walked to Madison.

Lane returned to her apartment cluttered with moving boxes and masking tape. Her shift at work consisted of crying, drinking coffee, crying, clicking on her keyboard, crying, eating, and crying a little bit more. Her eyes were puffy and her head was light from the mass of oxygen she constantly took after sobbing the subway train ride home.

"I'm almost done. Don't yell at me, please." Travis said holding a cardboard box in his arms filled with DVDs and picture frames. "I'll just be staying with my old college roommate. You can visit anytime." He added knowing she'll take up the offer.

"You know that I won't do that too myself. You're too hard to resist." She said extending her arm out to touch him one last time, but decided against it, knowing her control over him—slim to none.

"Please, Travis, this is too hard to watch."

He exhaled like a blow to the gut. "Fine. I'll just finish in the morning. I know you don't get up til noon, anyway. I'll be moved out completely by then." He gazed over her face. She was contorted into a mixture of worry, heartbreak, with a hit of anger, but he knew better. Her eyes her puffed like the one night they went out to dinner and their meal was like eating the Dead Sea. They both went home filling multiple glasses of water to try a balance their intakes and woke up unable to feel their fingers. Now, her eyes reminded Travis of that night and wished his feelings for her hadn't changed.

"Goodnight, Lane." He said reaching out to her, but her back was to him and he wiped his face instead.

"Bye, Travis." She said over her shoulder, not daring herself to look at him without crying again. She walked down the the slim hallway into her bedroom. She heard him take a shallow breathe of air like he was going to say something else, but she sulked until her bedroom door was shut behind her.

Travis watched her close her door and looked around the living room in remorse. All their "couple-firsts" came from the room: first kiss, first cuddle, first movie together, first meal, first sleepover, first time, first move-in, and first move-out.

He blinked away an emotion he couldn't put his finger on and walked outside, locking the door for her safety to make him feel better.