Her souls dragged along the pavement. She wore a well-loved pair of converse (the black and white kind that go above the ankles). The souls had ripped from their stitching months ago, but Jamie didn’t have a sewing kit, or the will to fix them.
She dragged her feet for another half mile before she stopped to rest and soak up the sun beating down on her. Her head was already hot (obsidian), but she still wanted more. More heat, more warmth, more of that on fire feeling.
She rolled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and picked out a spot on the side of the road. There was no sidewalk so she settled her back against a mound of grass forcing its way onto the pavement. She met the pavement with a searing warmth, like a 12oz steak meeting the right side of an iron skillet. She reveled in the sizzle for a moment: eyes closed, hair falling back, face exposed to more sun beams. This was all she needed. Nothing more than this could make her happy. A long walk down a long and winding road, alone. No more decisions, just pavement.
Jamie loafed in this state for about an hour before she stole an extra moment of sunshine for the road. She shifted her weight to the front of her feet, wiped away concrete glitter from her jeans, straightened herself out, looked back and pointed her feet in the opposite direction. Onward she went. The middle of the day greeted the middle of her journey as she rounded a corner pointing her toward the center of a hushed town.
20 meters before she reached the town line an IHOP slowly revealed itself on the other side of the horizon. Jamie dragged her feet another half mile before she reached the front door of the fine establishment. A little bell jingled when she pushed and crossed the threshold from pavement heat to air-conditioned booths and bleached countertops. She had her pick of the litter and slid into a little booth facing the door leaning her right shoulder against the store front window. Open Tuesday-Sunday 7am-10pm.
I thought today was Monday.
The bell jingled.
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