cal sag

at a party
  • aries: host. super chill except when guests go into their room. smokes or drinks a little, but remains sober.
  • gets into a fight with capricorn.
  • taurus: eating. everything. sneaks glances at aquarius from across the room.
  • gemini: a douchebag smoking weed on the roof. wonders if sagittarius is here too.
  • cancer: on the dance floor for the entire night, having fun with leo and an occasional aquarius or scorpio.
  • leo: the queen/king of the entire party. came to have fun and get a little drunk. dances with cancer and drinks with whoever's at the bar (they just like to talk).
  • virgo: the mom. making sure every drunk person has a ride home and doesn't get left behind. comforts libra in the bathroom.
  • libra: spends the night crying in the bathroom because their ex (scorpio) is in love with leo and not them.
  • scorpio: comes late and leaves early. champion of shot battles. only came for the tequila and the loud music. spends some time at the bar talking to leo and then joins aquarius or pisces.
  • sagittarius: carefree and fun. chilling in the pool or passed out drunk. before blacking out, wonders if gemini came to the party.
  • capricorn: gets into a fight with aries for some reason or other (neither can remember) and gets kicked out, but the joke's on aries because cap called the cops.
  • aquarius: dancing with leo and cancer or drinking with scorpio. catching a break and is happy and free. chugs 372894 ounces of alcohol in one sitting
  • pisces: the kid who can drink bottles and bottles of vodka straight and still isn't drunk. hangs out with scorpio for a while. either leaves super early or not until the next morning.
We're done here.

Another of the Midwest vignettes I’ve been working on. This one’s a bit more punchy, and definitely needs work – We’re done here.

                                                                                                           

Jack couldn’t look at her, so he focused on the blink of the Cal Sag traffic light just over the bridge. She wasn’t saying anything now, and he was thankful. Maybe she was over it.

She shifted in her seat and conspicuously cleared her throat. She wasn’t over it.

He wasn’t going to say anything. She knew that. She couldn’t deal with this kind of silence, with nothing but the hum of dead air and something broken.

He heard nothing.

The light turned yellow, and then red too quickly. He stared ahead and felt the car rock back with the brake. He thought to say something, to turn to her. It’d be that easy.

She didn’t skip a beat: “So, we’re done here, right?” She didn’t offer a glance when she said it, just yanked the handle of the car door, slamming it in a single, fluid motion that she might have practiced for weeks. He might have thought she had, if he hadn’t known he’d had no idea this would happen even just a few hours before.

She stepped out onto the shoulder of the road.

The light turned green and she took off across Cal Sag. She barely felt the hesitation before the wind of his car passing by. She looked up to a meadow with a concrete structure hovering over decrepit picnic tables.

She stayed to the shoulder, and felt the soft crunch of what she imagined to be a dandelion crushed beneath her foot.