Rockin' Goodbye's, Baby
An Avoidable Future in Under 1K Words
On the rocking chair, Maya stares into the skyline.
The trees have shed their skin, afraid that winter bruises will scorn them. Each spasm of the chair rings across the barren sky as no birds have adapted to the breathless air; no flowers have been borne from tenderness as the scales that had tended to them dissolved into oceans far away.
Along with the bodies; barren bodies, under the sea.
Maya squeezes her eyes closed, but the thoughts encompassing her only rattled around like coins in an empty man’s pocket. That was all she had to think of; that was all she had to mourn.
“You gone catch a cold out ‘ere.” Julie, the next-door neighbor, calls from her porch. A Bible covered in pink stickers, the youthfulness contrasting against the veins tattooing her skin, lay across her lap. Maya glanced over and said nothing. There were no allies in war, just damaged soldiers.
“I’ll be alright.”
“You not from around here, right? You don’t sound, so.”
“No, I’m from the city.”
“What city?”
“New York.”
“You a long ways from home, darlin’.” Julie laughs, continuing to rock, loosening her grip on everything surrounding her.
Maya exhaled deeply at the sound of her voice; it was not a familiar comfort, but as the hostility of her nerves dwindled into one of temperance, it was one she had to grow to understand.
Yet, “I know,” was all she could muster to her elder.
“Not a talker? That’s quite alright. Lord knows I won’t one before…all this. I often talk to myself, and I feel like the only one listening, too.” Julie grazed the top of her bible, her thumb caressing “Holy” and leaving “Bible” visible to more than just herself. Brushing off her loneliness with a soft chuckle, Julie’s shoulder blends into her rocking chair, dissolving and shrinking as she stares back into the sky, waiting for it to stare back.
“I don’t miss the city much. I like the air here.”
Julie lights up slightly, her white teeth dancing against her deep skin. “Well, ain’t that somethin’! I was worried you’d be miserable forever.”
“Not forever, just for right now.”
“I know,” Julie sighs, “I know.”
“What did you do…before?”
Julie’s chair creaked as she leaned forward; Maya could see her fingers at the corner of her eye. “You see this entire street?” She points. “I sold every house on this block. And the next. And the next! Hell, I prolly sold this whole neighborhood if you ask me!”
“Real estate agent?”
“Could sell you a pot with piss in it!” She laughed, a genuine laugh, and Maya smiled. She had not heard a laugh that real in weeks, maybe months.
“Gross,” Maya laughed, “Did you like it?”
“Wasn’t nothin’ better to me in the world. Giving people a home? What more is there in life besides giving people a future they deserved, one they could rely on.” Julie sighed again, “What about you darlin’? What’d you do?”
“A lawyer,” She rubs her hands against her thighs, “I was a lawyer for a huge law firm. I was the best. I was so good. 10 years and I haven’t lost a trial. Ever.” A tear rolled down Maya’s cheek, and Julie’s chair creaked. “I was so good, Ms. Julie. I was so fucking good.”
“I know, darlin’”
“I was the best.”
“You were.”
“I was the best.”
“You were.”
Vote in November.
With all I have,
Trixie