Smashing Things
She was holding a glass jar in her hand, and her skinned knees were vivid in the moonlight against the rest of her skin. In fact, in the moonlight, it was hard to tell that it was August, and that her skin was as dark as a Mexican child who had been in the sun since day 2 after birth. It was hard to see the dust from the fields that she'd played in during the day. Even the denim on her cut-offs looked pale baby-blue in the light, the ragged edges almost white. Her thin t-shirt, a leftover that didn't quite make it into the rag-bin from her father's drawer, flapped about her body in the warm breeze.
Crickets chirped. Somewhere down on the main street, two blocks north, a car drove by with the radio blaring. College kids.
She hefted the jar a little bit, and looked at the other girl. The other girl's hair blew with the breeze, the honey-blonde with brown-streaks looking golden in the moonlight. She was tall. So pretty. So upset with strictures she had. She knew how the other girl felt, although she didn't feel the same strictures. She didn't have an older sister she was compared to. She just felt.. weight of things a lot. Other people's feelings.
Both of the girls looked pitifully sad for a few moments, then happened to look at each other at the same time, and grinned maliciously.
"Now?"
"Now!"
Both threw their jars hard into the ground, not eight feet away, watched as they exploded into shards of glittering light under the moon and then skittered on the pavement, among the gravel and broken beer bottle glass. After a few brief seconds, it was quiet again. Quieter, actually. And then the crickets started chirping again, and another car zipped past on the street to the north.
Both girls burst into giggles and turned to zip back to the house. They needed to be on the air conditioner and in the window before the blonde's mother checked in on them. Back into the bedroom, and hopefully in their pajamas. Little innocents that never snuck out at night. Little innocents who never had the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Because children never worry.. they live in a healthy, happy, painfree existence.
Crickets chirped. Somewhere down on the main street, two blocks north, a car drove by with the radio blaring. College kids.
She hefted the jar a little bit, and looked at the other girl. The other girl's hair blew with the breeze, the honey-blonde with brown-streaks looking golden in the moonlight. She was tall. So pretty. So upset with strictures she had. She knew how the other girl felt, although she didn't feel the same strictures. She didn't have an older sister she was compared to. She just felt.. weight of things a lot. Other people's feelings.
Both of the girls looked pitifully sad for a few moments, then happened to look at each other at the same time, and grinned maliciously.
"Now?"
"Now!"
Both threw their jars hard into the ground, not eight feet away, watched as they exploded into shards of glittering light under the moon and then skittered on the pavement, among the gravel and broken beer bottle glass. After a few brief seconds, it was quiet again. Quieter, actually. And then the crickets started chirping again, and another car zipped past on the street to the north.
Both girls burst into giggles and turned to zip back to the house. They needed to be on the air conditioner and in the window before the blonde's mother checked in on them. Back into the bedroom, and hopefully in their pajamas. Little innocents that never snuck out at night. Little innocents who never had the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Because children never worry.. they live in a healthy, happy, painfree existence.