|
Alyx Schwarz Break. Run. Fake. An inch for every blank mistake.
Cabin Fever I've got a ten-minute break from cabin fever, and it stinks in here, but I don't think I can go out there again. Billy Johnson is sitting in 23C. His eyes are just as blue as they were fifteen years ago. I am sure he doesn't recognize me. He never saw me in the first place. Mom told me that I'd always remember my first crush. She left out that he wouldn't remember me. In middle school, I spent endless mornings brushing on layers of purple eyeshadow so I'd stand out in his peripheral vision. I even traded in my sports bras for the lacy black ones that I borrowed from Mom's drawer. Sister Grace wrote me up every day for rolling up my skirt ten inches above the knee. If only Billy knew how many desks I washed in deteniong for his attention. But I'm a grown woman now. i buy my own lacy black bras, and I have had several very successul relationships in the past six months. I have a steady job with excellent benefits, and i can fly anywhere for free. My supervisor doesn't care if my uniform is five inches above the knee or ten, and I have learned that red lipstick fares much better than purple eye shadow. I am sexy and independent. I am lonely as Hell. I'm only fifteen years shy of a midlife crisis. No one whistles at an old woman in a Corvette. I don't understand why Mom won't lend me the money for the car now, while I can still look good in it. I feel my ovaries shriveling as i write, and I'm still planning on three children, two girls and one boy. Technology better advance quickly to reverse menopause. Somebody needs to stop knocking on this door. There are two other lavatories for God's sake. Maybe it is time to collect trash again, and my ovaries are telling me that I should wink at Billy a few more times before I give up hope of him remembering me. (Note to self: look into adoption for single mothers.) |
 |
ISSN 2150-6795 |