Sunday, July 15, 2007

impiety

the phone buzzes sporadically on the table top, rotating in its own chaotic circle with each vibration.

"ugh, who is it this time? another project?" b asks, taking another sip of her cocktail.

a smiles, glancing down at the spinning phone.

"oh just the one from new york. 212 area code."

"a, you really need to stop torturing these poor animals."

"it's not torture! it's just harmless fun. they have no idea that they mean nothing," a shrugs, opening the phone to reject the call, sending it to her condescending voice mail.

"that has to be the fifth one in two weeks, dude."

b and a sit on the outside veranda, cooled by the overhead misters, the sun's blaring heat subsiding with the wane of the day. bustling conversations from the people inside the restaurant echo outdoors, with passersby shifting their shopping bags and day's purchases contemplating which bistro or steak house or bar to select for that night. the outdoor mall was fairly new.

a slips her tired feet in and out of her worn heels, tracing her finger along the rim of her glass. an alert to a new voicemail buzzes to her attention.

"i know. that's the trouble with consorting with morons...you need at least five to fill the space that a normal run of the mill man would fill."


b smirks and eyes one of two businessmen sitting at the bar a few feet away inside.


"don't be so cruel then, cast at least a couple lose. it can't be too fair letting them think they even have a chance."


"and why should i be merciful? i didn't see any mercy at my sentencing," a flips her hair back and stares at the stem of her wine glass. b stifles a groan, instead releasing a sigh.


"when are you going to let that go a? you need to get past all the shit j put you through. just move on."


"isn't that what i'm doing? fucking all of these gorgeous idiots? wouldn't you say that's moving on?" a starts. "j is dead to me. as dead no doubt as his new girlfriend is in bed under him."


b knows to back down, as usual. she purses her lips and looks back at the businessmen at the bar, both of them now checking out the two girls. a sighs.


"i don't care about him anymore b. it's done."


b downs the remainder of her drink then gets her purse and keys together.


"just keep telling yourself that a, everytime a stallion asks for your number and you hesitate because his face pops up in your peripherals." she tucks a's arm under hers and heads toward the bar.


approaching the two men, b quickly hashes out dibs on the taller blonde, while a accepts the lesser, younger looking brunette of the two. after all, it was a's turn to aquiesce tonight.

"there's no better medicine than the sweet morphine of a one night stand," b mutters in a's ear, before putting her game face on and introducing herself as christine.


far away in a's mind, past her flirtatious smile and lingering handshake with ian, a law intern, age 25, far away there she sits. biding her time before the emptiness is complete, and all she ever has to feel again is ian's hungry thrusts against her frame.


she stands before the impass a broken woman. the few who know what lies beyond the vacancies of her eyes are shadowed memories, disappeared from her world with sullen looks and cold stances. all that remains is the same empty stare, the hands who no longer grasp for feeling, the tears that no longer fall. all that remains of her is dust, responsive only to the mirthless winds that disperse her in this life.

1 comment:

BG Moore said...

Write more. Please, I beg you.