Leaving Home , p1

Sharon looked out over the foggy bay. Tonight was the last night she would ever see this ocean magic. By tomorrow afternoon all should would see was beige desert, forever.

The waters of SF bay lapped up against the stones beneath her feet, wetting her bare feet. The cacophony of gulls made her feel like, if she could just jump hard enough, she might fly with them.

The obnoxious horn of the Suburban shook her from her dream.

“Sharon, let’s go, geezuz!”

Frank. He wasn’t a bad man but he was bad for her. He had dirty blonde hair, beige if she had to be honest. He assured her that she would be with him forever. He never knew, he would never know, not until it was too late, just how much she loved him.

She inhaled deeply. The brine. The roasted smell of meat. Gull shit. It completed her. How long would this charge last? Long enough Jesus, please. 

As the Suburban made for the interstate Sharon sat on her hands and kept her head down. This was the tradition.  It was kept by Brit and Maddie too – same pose. It had been kept by Lisa, Sophia, Lahesh, Mandy, and Risa too – for all the good it did them. If Frank saw your eyes you got hit. “I don’t make the rules,” He’d shout.

But, yes, he did. He made them all.

I guess Brit could tell I had a lot on my mind. She rubbed my foot with her own. Her toes caressing the hard tendons, reminding me to relax. I couldn’t look at her, but I rubbed her foot back. No one outside this truck would ever know how much Brit and Maddie and I loved each other.



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