Tag: friends

The quitter

When the going got tough, Mark was always the first one to quit. Every argument with friends and colleagues would result in Mark distancing himself from others. At thirty, he was friendless.

This time, however, he was going set it right. He was determined to sit down and talk it through, regardless of how tough it became. Mother was right, of course. This relationship was far more important than all other dismal failures.

At last, he was ready to persevere. With that happy note and flowers in hand, he entered their new home.

His bride of two months had left.

—

Thanks for the muse, Today’s Author.

Welcoming a New Year

“I’m allergic to negativity. It’s my New Year’s resolution.”

Jessica said to the woman smiling at her from the mirror. She brimmed with self-confidene and positivity. New Year’s Eve had been crazy. She’d dined with friends from work before heading out again to welcome the new year with friends from college. As she washed away the previous night’s vodka and lemon from her hair, she also washed away all her problems.

Shielding her eyes from the bright light, she stepped out of her apartment and into the gleaming Honda Civic fresh from a service. Enjoying the lingering buzz, she zoomed her way to the towering corporate building.

————————————

“Chai!”

Jesintha cowered as her father’s foot jabbed her ribs. She should’ve known. The previous night had been New Year’s Eve—as if he’d needed reason. Before he kicked again, she sat up rubbing her swollen eyes.

Her mother died giving birth to her on a New Year’s Day. The man who’d raised her didn’t resemble a parent. He’d give her enough to last the day—she’d cook, clean, and eat leftovers. He’d sleep at the toddy shop, coming home for tea every morning. Unless she overslept. That’d result in black eyes and aching ribs.

Handing him chai, she wished only one thing: to be elsewhere on her next birthday.

Uncanny relationships

They hadn’t had a proper conversation since their farewell at college five years ago. Martha had pursued cookery and, as seen on television, did a fine job. Merlyn, on the other hand, realised her long-time ambition working in a farm. Not only did she graze with goats, eat goat cheese, and drink goat milk, but she preferred open valleys over open offices.

When Martha called the supplier of her last catering gig, she didn’t know it’d be Merlyn. They hadn’t had a proper conversation since they’d seen each other last—and discovered a love triangle with their best friend Jason.

Evolution

The edges had waned with the years. Within, was her younger self laughing to a long-lost joke, her arm around his waist and his arm enveloping her shoulder. Behind them loomed their college cafeteria; just the sight reminded her of weak mornings and strong coffees.

Life—priorities and perceptions—had evolved with adulthood. Old ideals had drained as the monsoon gives way to dry weather.

Yet the photo remained. Jerry and Jo had been the thickest of friends and the slimmest of couples. Throughout college they’d kept everyone guessing their relationship.

Now, Jerry and Jo are just a cherished memory.

A comforting shoulder

From behind his picket fence, Benjamin saw the kids playing. Along with the five year old twins from across the lawn, was the oldest kid in the block, Ryan. The three of them held a small teddy bear above Mark’s face — the three year old who’d just moved to the neighbourhood with his grandparents.

Ben remained rooted as Mark reached out to his teddy, and failing. Ryan was laughing, the pinkish gums behind his primary teeth, now gleaming in the sun. When his mother called for dinner, he cast the teddy aside and ran, the twins in his wake.

Mark had slopped on the ground, weeping. Retrieving the teddy from the sludge, Benjamin sat beside the child, and put his arm around him.

Bullied kids need a comforting shoulder. Ben knew, because he’d had none.