Little Like a Military Man

Her good cheer had a cadence to it. Like an army teaching turbulent post-adolescents to march, she had drilled her inherent repulsiveness into regimented civility.

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Posted by Gregory Taylor

Her eyes glinted like ice cracking under freshly poured scotch--cold, fragile, intoxicating.

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Posted by Gregory Taylor

Silent Cal

"Can he even hear us with those things in?"
"Yes, I hear you all perfectly well."
Everyone jumped to hear Silent Cal speak. Amanda recovered first.
"Why do you wear headphones all the time?"
Her question, and those that followed, went unanswered as Cal resumed his customary reserve. Until Dain asked, "Are you listening to anything good?"
Cal paused halfway through turning the page of his book. He looked over at Dain with something in his eye that was neither pain nor laughter completely. Then without a word he reached up, removed the speakers from his ears, and handed them to Dain. With a glance to his friends Dain put the headphones to his own ears expectantly. His face slowly contracted as if he were taking small sips of lemonade short one teaspoon of sugar: not completely unpleasant, but unsettling.
"It's just static!"
"Yes, I was afraid that was all you would hear." Cal took the headphones from Dain's outstretched hand and replaced them on his ears.
"Why, do you hear something different?" asked Claire.
Receiving only a silent stare in response, Claire looked back in his eyes and realized what was so strange about them: they reflected nothing. Like a vast cavern that refuses to let the light of a candle tear back even the slightest corner of the darkness, Cal's eyes were untouched by the world around him.
"What do you hear?" she whispered.
"Eternity."

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Posted by Gregory Taylor

Will the Ears Listen as the Mouth Speaks?

"What are you doing here, Ray?"
Startled out of my thoughts, I realized where my feet, once left to themselves, had taken me out of long habit. Back to the café.

Estelle peered at me over the high countertop beside the register, her eyes telling me to get lost but her mouth looking like it had tried to forget things said earlier. Her nose was half-turned up, either in disgust or cool appraisal, but that was normal. Eyes or mouth, which to believe?

***

"Estelle, I guess I just came back to say this." My brain hoped my mouth knew what it was doing here. "I love you. There's just no way around it. The things you said to me this morning? They hurt. A lot. I've never let anyone hurt me like that before. I've never let myself get that close to someone before. The pain surprised me and I lashed out like a small scared boy. I didn't mean what I said. Heck, I don't even remember exactly what I said, that's how little I meant it. You hurt me, but it helped me see how much you mattered to me. I can't say I'm looking forward to more hurt like that, but if you're the one causing it, I guess that'll be alright." I took a deep breath before plunging ahead on one knee. "Estelle Lewis, will you marry me?"

There was a gentle rustling as the loose assemblage of customers and staff slowly turned to look up from my face to hers.

After a long pause she sighed, left hand on her hip, the back of her right hand rising to wipe away some unseen grime from her forehead. "Ray, you are a fool, you know that? An impetuous, irritating, irresponsible fool." With barely a glance at the hushed crowd Estelle continued, "But you're my fool and I don't know what I would do if you were anything else. Yes, you silly man, yes, I love you and, yes, I will marry you." An excited murmur filled the café and a few supportive hands clapped.

Estelle paused, though, looking at me sidelong. "Did you think this through enough to actually have a ring or am I going to have to wait for that, too?"

A smile almost broke my jaw as I straightened and reached into my jacket pocket. "I haven't had it resized yet, since Mom just gave it to me this morning, but we both hope you'll like it as much as she did."

The café buzzed again as Estelle hurried around the counter to meet me coming the other way. The ring didn't fit but with our arms full of each other and our hearts full of hope for the future, I don't think either of us was too concerned about some empty space between finger and metal.

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Posted by Gregory Taylor

Happy Birthday

The balloons tied to the mailbox would have read Happy Birthday a few days ago. By now, though, even the Mylar had leaked enough helium that the envelope was no longer lighter than the surrounding air. It swung upside-down next to a cluster of shrunken heads buffeted by the twisting winds – latex balloons, the once-gay coloring making their current posture all the more grotesque.

Posted by Gregory Taylor

Michelle

"You know who I ran into today?"
"Who's that?"
"Do you remember Michelle, my old roommate?"
"Was she the one with the laugh that sounded like a cuckoo clock falling down stairs?"
Tammy giggled. "Stop that! That was Sue, and she was a very nice girl! No, Michelle lived with me 6 months over at Gerald's Heights."
"Oh, the ninja?"
"Hey, she kept to herself, paid her bills on time, so what if she had a tendency to slip in and out of rooms unnoticed?"

She was attractive, but not the kind that would draw stares over a pint. She was a woman a man might tell his mother about before he told his buddies.

Posted by Gregory Taylor