shuffle

2005-01-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

As they walked back towards the direction of her car her tall bookends playfully grilled her about her life. In short order the uncovered her name, occupation and general vicinity of her home. "The Valley?" they exclaimed in that slightly patronizing tone that could only be heard in the voices of Angelenos who lived south of the Hollywood Hills.

She loved her little neighborhood in the east Valley and so her hackles raised a little at the unconsciously condenscending tone. Her new best friends must have sensed her raised eyebrow because they both straightened up just a little and quickly changed the subject to a cute girl-girl couple crossing their path, commenting on how vibrantly the long fire-engine red hair of one contrasted against the raven black Louise Brooks bob of her partner.

Before she knew it, before she had a chance to turn the grilling back on her companions (Luke was the name of the darkly exotic Adonis whilst his golden god went by the name of Steve - "I know, I'm just hopelessly all-American, though I daresay Poppa Bush would stroke out if Jenna dear brought me home. Say, that might not be such a bad idea..."), they were back at the little restaurant in front of which she had parked her car. She told them as much.

Luke broke into the wide bright smile he obviously wore more easily than his custom-fit silk shirt. "See, girl? It's kismet us meeting you tonight. Tell ya what. For the next few hours Steve and I will be your very own Princes Charming. How's that sound?"

She had to admit it sounded pretty okay to her. "Is that alright with you, Steve?" She didn't want to make any assumptions.

Steve rolled his eyes upwards and flicked his hand nonchalantly. "Please, hon, of course it is. I have to take exception to Luke, though. I am your Prince Charming. Luke here is more along the lines of Fairy Godmother."

She burst into laughter, but quickly covered up her mouth as she looked almost apologetically up at the dark beauty by her side. Luke returned her gaze steadily, then nodded his head. "It's true. I'm the biggest Fairy Godmother you'll ever meet. At least the biggest one with magic wand and jewels still intact."

She broke out into girlish giggles, something she'd almost forgotten she could do.

2004-11-17T01:27:00.000-08:00

For a moment she expanded her consciousness outside of herself: the clubs now a few blocks behind her, the slowly moving traffic as it cruised the street, the laughing, snuggling couples in their infinite combinations of boy-girl, boy-boy, girl-girl that seemed unique to this part of town. It was this last that simultaneously lifted and broke her heart. She loved seeing people happy and especially loved that here, at least, all couples felt free to engage in public displays of affection.

But again her own newly uncoupled status slammed down until the breath was knocked out of her and her knees threatened to buckle from the sheer force. She withdrew her awareness from the surrounding world and stopped in her tracks, leaning heavily against the outer wall of the pharmacy to her right as she tried to find her breath again.

Instead she noticed the borders of her vision collapse in on her, a tingly sensation in her face accompanying the sparkles dancing on the tunnel edges of her sight. She panicked for a moment, her head becoming lighter as she tried to take in more oxygen, barely conscious that she was breathing too rapidly and shallowly, but unable to find a way to correct her hyperventilation.

A hand touched her shoulder and she glanced up, aware for the first time that her leaning body was doubled over, her arms curled up against her stomach, her eyes directed at her annoying shoes. A face swam into view. A handsome face with blond spiked hair and wide concerned green eyes.

"Honey, are you okay?" a distant voice asked as his lips moved just slightly out of sync with his words. That moment of distraction from her head and her pain served to begin the regulation of her breathing again. The world widened, her now numb face regained some of its lost feeling. She nodded, tried to tell the kind stranger she would be okay in time, but her voice came out in a croak. It was then that she saw, next to her Good Samaritan, another man - dark haired and dark skinned and dark eyed, equally handsome, equally concerned.

An instant panic washed over her again as she was seized with an urge to tell the young blond to run away, leave his dark beauty before his heart was broken too, because everyone's heart was broken in the end. Especially now that he had touched her, her unhappiness would spread. But she caught herself, found her voice again - the low soothing voice that he had once loved - and responded, "I'm fine, thank you." Just like a good little member of society should.

The Adonises (Adonii?) looked at each other, then looked at her and shook their heads in unison. "No, you're not," said the dark one, his exotic looks a perfect counterpoint to the all American boy next door countenance of his companion. And young, so young they looked to her nearing 40 year old eyes.

She shook her head in perfect, if unconscious, imitation of these beautiful boys. "No, really, I'll be okay."

"Of course you'll be okay," agreed the blond, "but right now you're anything but fine. Come on, let's get some coffee in you." She then noticed his hand still on her shoulder as he turned her back the way she had come. She wanted to stop them, tell them their concern was touching but unnecessary but the vigor of their combined kindness propelled her down the sidewalk, as did the arms they had linked in hers.

In a secret compartment of her heart she admitted to herself that it felt good to be commandeered by these gently forceful gods, to be taken care of, however fleetingly, by people who didn't know her, didn't know her history and hadn't heard the long sad story a million times over. Hell, all they saw was a woman in emotional pain and that was enough for them. A needle of comfort pierced through her suffering.

Besides, she thought, she didn't want to be rude, did she?

2004-11-05T17:36:00.000-08:00

All she heard was the shuffle, shuffle, shuffle of her own feet. Not that the night was silent. Not by a long shot. The music spilling from the dance clubs was far louder than any noise her ill-fitting pumps could produce. But she was so into her own head, her tumultuous thoughts that any sound generated outside herself just didn't register. And since it didn't register in her crazy busy brain, it simply didn't exist.

She knew that she should have been home hours ago. That instead of walking down this bustling sidewalk at midnight she should've been getting ready for bed. Brushing her teeth, washing the make-up from her face, brushing her long dark hair until it gleamed - not a stroke more, not a stroke less.

But being home tonight - Friday night - would do nothing but tear her apart, remind her yet again that he wasn't there anymore. No, better for her to walk about late at night where the people she didn't notice, the sounds she couldn't hear, could keep her company. Remind her she wasn't alone.

Once, a long time ago, she had been alone, without a companion. It didn't seem so bad then. Maybe because she was younger. Maybe because she had a roommate. Maybe because she had never before invested her years and her emotions and her thoughts in a relationship that had once been mutual, reciprocal.

The freshness, the starkness of her now aloneness had weighed heavily on her this past week. Everything she did echoed loudly in an apartment that had lost 175 pounds of human. Her sobbing, screaming, vomiting. Even her thoughts - of suicide, of self-mutilation, of revenge - seemed to reverberate in the apartment. Which was why she left.

She had driven over the hill, down Santa Monica Blvd and had miraculously found a parking space in the middle of West Hollywood night life. Taking it as an omen, she had taken the parking space in front of the clean, yet hole-in-the-wall restaurant next to Koontz Hardware. It had looked too busy, even for her mood on this night, so she opted to move along the sidewalk instead, listening to her shuffling feet and scowling at the shoes popping off her heels to drag on the cement before she brought her foot down again to slide the shoe back on.