Monday, June 7, 2010

Delirium

I have not slept in 30 hours. My bones ache and my head is spinning but I can't rest.

He wore a green t-shirt, but she didn't notice. He settled into the seat beside her and smiled. She rolled her eyes, an act as automatic as groping for warmth in the middle of the night. She shifted gears and peeled out of the driveway, thinking about the time he had kissed her in the park. They had spent the week together, each day more pleasant than the last. She wondered if she had blushed as his face drew closer, and the prospect angered her. Had her mother ever blushed in the presence of a man? It was difficult to imagine the now hardened woman as a fresh-faced girl brimming with hope and naivety, but she reasoned that she must have been at one time. They drove for miles until she finally asked "Why do you like me?" He paused, then tapped her forehead and said "I like what's in here." She smiled, but felt inadequate. The car stopped. "You're in the middle of the road," he calmly observed. "I am." She smiled. "You might want to pull over," he suggested, but she pretended he hadn't spoken. She switched the CD and took a few deep breaths. She started the engine and pointed the car in the direction of home."I wore green for you," he offered. "Yes," she replied, the rattling of loose discs barely masking the disregard the brain has for the heart.