u s e y o u r h a n d s

With the pebble trapped under her big toe, she wrote her name in the warm sand. And then erased it. She stood back to look at the smudges she’d made and regretted writing her name entirely. She regretted her name.

So she decided that the next thing she was called, she’d go by forever. And with that decision made, she went on with her day. The first stop was the grocery store. She got in her car.

Unfortunately, she was a very, very bad driver.

The CFO shut the door quietly, holding on to the handle and turning the latch slowly. He leaned his head against the door and studied the way the door met the floor. A sigh, and he returned to his desk and opened a drawer.

The CFO took out the plastic bag and set them on his blotter. A sigh, and he removed some of its contents. It had been a very long time since the last time he’d done it.

Slowly, the CFO stuck a slivered almond between each of his teeth. He felt his lips rest ever so hesitantly, like a fat woman on wicker, on the almond barbs. And one by one, they snapped. Like heaven.

The opening violin made her eyes cringe. She did not blink so her tears met the air and battled. Here came the guitar, which caused the ache in her left knee. It hurt so much it twitched. And then the piano that left her nose runny. Her tongue went like windshield wipers to her mucus.

Then the oboes. Then the bass. Then the flute. Twitching, running, cringing, hurting. The song that reminded her of nothing but him turned her into an unexpected symphony. And she played it over and over.