Tuesday, February 24, 2009

pull the wool over your eyes.

The deep crooning of Johnny Cash filled the thick, humid air, hanging like the dipping branches of the oak trees around her. With all of the windows down and barefeet on the floorboard, she began to fidget as she grew closer to the outskirts of town. Coming back here was like drinking poison. She knew good and well that the only way she would make it out alive was if it stayed in her veins alone, never traveling all the way to her heart. If she could just keep it far away from the beating muscle guarded so securely (or so you would like think) by her rib cage, that was her only shot at survival. It's about as rare as finding a needle in a hay stack, but she enjoyed the challenge that presented itself. She always loved a good challenge, but only one she could win. Sure, she was difficult at times, but with that came determination.

In the side mirror to her right, she could see the freckles that peppered her nose and forehead, a result of countless summer days spent by the pool and at the beach. She liked having them there, feeling as if they made her more unique. She'd always strived for that. Her pair of saphire eyes scanned back & forth, the scenery now a blur of the past. She knew that if she allowed herself to grasp it for too long, the memory would just consume her, swallowing her up like a ship at sea. She did not spend the past two years building up that wall just to watch it be torn down. "you have to keep afloat" she whispered to herself in repetition. An old trick of the trade that she learned from her doctor. Sinking led to drowning and that meant failure, something she refused to settle for. She was not like other cases. She was the exception to the rule, or so she told herself. Pulling into town, familiarity wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket. She had visited each parking lot on this block atleast once. Never a planned meeting of sorts, but a spontaneous reaction that had led her there, as if the car had a mind of its own. Her breathing steadied in a timely fashion, like the rocking of a dock being swayed by the wake.

"BEEEEEP!!! Beep beep!!!" A horn blared over her shoulder, ripping her from the daydream frantically, like a fish out of water. Glancing in the rearview mirror, a rusty, old, red pickup was about two inches from ramming her shiny, silver bumper. The man was still wearing yesterdays five o'clock shadow & no shirt, his bare sunburnt chest exposed. A knot of chewing tabacco bulged from his left cheek and his grease stained middle finger was waving in the air like a flag on the fourth of july. Trying to piece together the ruckus that was ensuing, Rumer realized that the light had turned green. She thrust her foot down onto the gas pedal and the car jolted to life once more. She placed her gold aviators back onto her sunkissed face. As the orange and pink color of dusk met her gaze, she gently brushed the whispy blonde hairs out of the way, the fence lined farms that passed beside her became nothing more than smeared images. It was happening now. She was moving on.