Venus [BARRETT]

SEVEN

THE ROUNDED EDGES OF GLASS ON A BEACH

☼

My dreams had become unusual.

Gardens made of circus mice and ponds of bees. The feeling of kisses in some rainy place. The backs of my eyelids cast a green hue over everything in my brain. I definitely wasn't losing any sleep, but I never woke up feeling like I had rested.

Today, the sky was overcast. It waved at me through the window as I rolled onto my side, already knowing it was half past five — I could barely sleep past it anymore. I had trained myself too well.

The hour I gave myself to get ready wasn't exactly needed; dressing, pampering, and gathering lunch all took about thirty minutes, leaving the other half to just relax and avoid a grumpy Tom.

Sometimes he got a kiss on the cheek or a quick smooch while he blinked himself awake in bed, so I typically made him a cup of tea and left.

He had beaten me up this morning, which I could hear from the kettle already boiling on this dreary Saturday. I pottered to the bathroom where I grabbed my comb and began brushing my hair. Although I had been trying hard not to, I thought of Syd and the 'promise' I had made the other day.

Of course I was thinking of him. Why wouldn't I?

He kept showing up in places I didn't expect him, and not showing up when I wanted him to. Why—why was I always conjuring him up in my head? The incident at the gig had left a large gash in my psyche that I was still trying to patch up. I didn't know if Syd was still weird about knowing my boyfriend personally, or if it was nothing to worry about. He hadn't been too explicit the other day.

I tried to brush a knot out of my hair, shaking my head at my previous thought and pulling hard, when I spotted a hair tie on the edge of the kitchen sink that I hadn't noticed before. It was purple with a tassel on the end.

I didn't own purple hair ties. . . especially with ugly tassels.

I stared at it for what felt like six good, long minutes before looking away. Like a robot, I kept brushing my hair and dressed myself.

"See you, babe," Tom called out.

The door slammed shut behind him and I stood in the middle of the bedroom, feeling odd. Tom wasn't on the roster for Saturdays. . . wasn't he? Perhaps his schedule had changed, but then, why wouldn't he have told me?

Then again, I was doing something that I hadn't told him. I was just as guilty. Even so, it felt weird to not tell Tom — mostly because I'm skipping out on a day's pay that should've gone to rent or the car. If he knew, it'd be like standing too close to an explosion.

On the other hand, what difference would it make if he thought I was working when I wasn't? Keeping secrets wasn't something Tom and I were foreign to.

In the kitchen, I saw Tom's cup in the sink. All by itself, lonely without a companion and I suddenly felt a chill rush over me.

"You're being weird again," I told myself. I grabbed my keys, slipped on my flat shoes, and headed out the door.

The sky was overcast at Perrin park but there were still a few dots of people here and there. I floated in, near the pansy shrubs, and just stood, unsure of where to go. He never specified where we'd meet and I began to feel a little anxious. A little stupid.