– Make an event out of it.’ ” He had said. She’d always hated shopping, though. How bright the fluorescent lights were, how cold it always was. The sheer number of clothes to choose from, with all their "textures" and "patterns" and “color combinations” and whatever else.
mouse trap. or, deer head.
i. He turns his head back to you with a tilt at an angle that must certainly be painful, calling your name halfway out of the door. You hum, absorbed in some thick book (the thicker, the better), only half listening to what you think is going to be a goodbye.
the burning prophecy (of johnny cash).
Mrs. Martin Floyd had gotten it in her mind to go to the grocery store, and she intended to do just that. So she put on her little face mask, blue fabric printed with little roses, and a straw hat with a small garden of roses on it's brim to match. (It did get rather hot on her walks sometimes, and she rather liked to accessorize.) She gripped the handles of her walker with the pink tennis balls and shuffled out of the door.
sea of sand.
The Traveler wiped the sweat from their brow, squinting up at the unblinking Iris. They looked out over the dunes, the wind slithering and shifting the sand with each hot exhale. They sighed heavily and trekked on, footprints carried away by the desert breeze as if The Traveler had never been there at all.
bread for the maestra.
i. As far as Nina and Kiki know, the first time I met their Father was at the Bakery. It was easy to assume, as Ryohei wasn’t exactly the most sociable person, and most of the few people he did know were Bakery regulars. In some way, it was the truth.
the mourning before.
It was the idle times like these - with the steady sound of chopping carrots, the quiet gurgling of boiling water, the soft plop of potatoes being dropped in, the smoke curling up and vanishing - that I allow myself to remember the night we first met.