Tonight was a night for macaroni and cheese. Something gooey and fattening – food that went straight to your hips, but on the way it felt like a warm blanket. Emily stared at the e-mail from her boss. “Needs to be rewritten. See me.” Attached, her life's work. The few comments were ambiguous except for their negativity: “Wrong,” “Awful,” and “You write like a drunk preschooler.”
Her phone buzzed, Malcolm checking in with some witty remark. Emily smiled for a moment. “Texting on company time, Emily?” her boss asked, behind her.
Maybe ice cream, too.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Sara watched the sky, silent, while Nathan drove. The stars, once so bright, were fading; drowned out by the aurora of civilization. “Everything seemed so much brighter out there,” Sara said quietly. “Cleaner, or simpler, or something. I don't know.”
Nathan didn't respond.
“I suppose if we lived there, it'd be just as bleak as home.” For a moment, it sounded deep. “It's the routine that destroys it, maybe.”
“Maybe,” Nathan agreed. Tomorrow there would be coffee, and work, and the gray normalcy of life. But tonight there were still stars left. Sara watched them.