War Prayer 018
- January 30th, 2008
- Posted in Uncategorized
- Write comment
(how little)
War Prayer 018
Theresa was waiting for Drew on campus the morning after the towers fell. By the time he walked through the parking lot his stomach was in knots. Macho, dick measuring, conversations about “fucking ay-rabs” and “bombing them back to the stone age” filled the air as he made his way towards the large building at the end of campus. Supposedly “progressive” friends who stopped him sounded like members of a white supremacist organization. He could not even begin to deal with this. His best friend was barely dead for a week and now this? He blocked out the disgusting, racist, garbage others spewed around him.
Near the education center he glanced outside at the bench Amber had sat with him only months before. What they had done to each other with each other’s and their own hands, and only their hands, that night was done in silence. Amber bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. Drew shivered and squirmed at her touch until she took his right hand and guided hers with it.
Upstairs, above the theater, at the end of a narrow hallway, Theresa sat on a couch staring at the floor. She looked up and smiled, patting the other side of the couch to encourage Drew to sit. He joined her in staring at the floor. After a minute, Theresa stood up and dramatically threw her arms in the direction of the window to their left. “No, really, fuck them,” she said quietly as she pointed towards a few large groups of students gathering outside below a flag. Theresa sat down again and interlocked her fingers with his, tightly squeezing them until it hurt both of them. “But like you said, it’s time to move on.”
They skipped their classes that day. No one seemed to care. Theresa leaned into Drew and kissed him. Both began to cry. He kissed her back, very hard, very intensely. They drove home and silently laid on his bed enjoying each other’s warmth while the world imploded around them.
No, really, fuck them.
Theresa buried her head in his shoulder and kissed the bottom of his chin. Drew did not need to move on anymore; it would be a few years before he could begin to feel anything even worth considering being called an emotion.
No comments yet.