101 Words

Two cars passed by, the passengers staring at Rajesh. One even rolled down the window to double-check.

The feel was unbelievable. Like sitting on a throne. Like owning the world. Was it twenty years back when he had rode with his father? Yeah, his old man was the best. Sharp eyes. Light steering. Smooth turns. Nifty overtake. Perfect parking. Just watching him was a sheer joy.

But then the self-driving cars ruined everything.

A strong sense of power overwhelmed Rajesh as he pressed his foot down and revved the car.

The new rental was super. They had Dial M for Manual.

His undivided attention smothered her: a breakfast tray that appeared on her lap every morning, scribbled love notes that were shoved under tear soaked pillows, kisses that were planted on turned cheeks, bruises that hid under long sleeved sweaters, heart shaped boxes of chocolates that appeared on Valentine’s Day, birthday presents that were given but no longer appreciated, promises that were made but never kept, family heirlooms shattered in a thousand different pieces, broken bones and a heart that could no longer be mended, unspeakable acts that begged for forgiveness, ashes that were scattered from a fire that burned long ago.

ME: An old freak with a limp, nails chewed to the nub from lingering remnants of long ago. Creative to distraction or just to distract. Address changes have atrophied atrocities or merely enabled escape. Too many frayed connections. Too few can hold onto the strands.

How far would you go for an imperfect freedom? How far is too far? My metamorphosis so sweet has become incarcerating just the same.

THEM: Three senior men I meet for coffee—an oblivious addict, a flat Earth conspiracist, and a retired weed-sucking vet who likes living in his car.

I think I prefer a puppy.

“You’re ugly and stupid and nobody likes you.”

The boy’s mean words hit like fists, but Ben doesn’t say anything back. He stands where he is and doesn’t even drop his eyes.

“If you left here, nobody would miss you. Everybody would be glad.”

Ben’s eyes begin to sting, but he still doesn’t walk away.

“I bet your mom and dad are sorry you were ever born.”

That hurts enough that Ben finally has to step away from his bedroom mirror.

As he wipes his eyes, he thinks, no one else can hurt me today.

He finishes getting ready for school.

“Trust me.”

I felt his heart beat through the tip of my fingers. Every single pound in his chest sent a shock through my body. I could tell a good or bad person through the rhythm of their heartbeat. It was a gift. But with Ade, I couldn’t.

Eye to eye. Another blast tore into the air and my eyes darted everywhere as my breathing became ragged. Tables and chairs were all upside down, legs in the air, amid debris of cement block. My eyes returned to his brown ones and I made a decision without my gift.

“Okay,” I whimpered.

He once had a mate. They had built a nest together, but their eggs were lifeless as stones.

Now the red male sat on the fence surrounding the koi pond and he sang his four-note song over and over again. But he sang alone.

One morning he noticed the fish swimming in the pond. Their puckering, hungry mouths stirred something in him. He had shared berries with his petite beige mate. He would have fed his chicks.

He hopped cautiously towards the water. As a fish swam up close, the cardinal knelt towards it and dropped seed into a waiting mouth.