Jagged nails

May 22nd, 2014, 12pm

It was 27.2°C with few clouds. The breeze was light.

As I rang the doorbell, I noticed I had forgotten to file my nails. Their jagged edges looked like a mountain range with fine black lines that stuck deep down in the crevices. She opened the door. She was dressed neatly with styled hair.

Thinking back now, I cannot even remember her face, however I did notice she had perfectly manicured nails.

We were sitting outside by the heated pool watching her two little daughters swim. “I bet we have a lot in common,” she said looking at me. “I mean…we probably see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Yeah.”

It was the only appropriate answer, really.

“You know how there’s all that stuff on the news today about pro-choice, pro-life, blah, blah, blah, bullshit?”

I nodded.

“Well, I mean I get why they would want that sort of thing to be legal – pregnancy does a number on your physique,” she said patting her small waist. “But it’s just not right, ya know? And we can testify to that fact that there ARE better alternatives.”

I had no idea where this conversation could possibly lead. When I had first arrived on her doorstep that day, I pictured us embracing immediately, refusing to let go until my mom showed up at 5.

“If these teens would just suck it up and get it over with, they’d be fine. Well, I mean, not that it wasn’t a difficult decision…but look how we turned out, right?”

I forced a smile. She turned her gaze back toward her daughters. The ones she had decided to keep. I heard a wind start in the top of the trees. It slowly traveled down to ground level, blowing the mowed blades of grass and knocking a beach ball into the pool.

I looked over to her.

“Well, wouldn’t ya know? Fucking rain.”

There was nothing there.


Craig said thanks.

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Doe Jane

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