Monsters
It was Monday. You were holding the produce in one hand, grocery list stuck to your opposite palm, when I thought to ask, “Why are we doing this?”
“What, shopping?”
“Yes. It’s Monday and we’re shopping.”
“I know,” you eyed me critically. “We shop every Monday.”
“Exactly,” I said, “We shouldn’t have come to the store today. We should be out doing things.”
You pocketed the grocery list. You always were a good listener. “We should be falling in love.” I said. The corners of your lips twitched with the suggestion of a smile. My face immediately turned red. “Not with each other.”
You were wearing my shirt, and when we left the house this morning I must have noticed it, but only now did it begin to feel all wrong.
“It’s dark outside.” you said. “How can you possibly expect us to fall in love with no sunshine?”
I couldn’t tell if you were making fun of me. You suddenly looked impossibly sad.
“You’re wearing my shirt.” I said, finally.
And then your face bloomed and you smiled so your teeth showed, as though all your monsters had been put to rest. As though you’d looked outside and suddenly the sun was rising.
“Okay.” you said. And you took your shirt, which was mine, off in one motion, right there in the grocery store. And you grabbed my hand, softly, and led me out into the night time. The produce lay forgotten behind us, in the middle of the aisle floor.
It was going to be a beautiful Monday.
“What, shopping?”
“Yes. It’s Monday and we’re shopping.”
“I know,” you eyed me critically. “We shop every Monday.”
“Exactly,” I said, “We shouldn’t have come to the store today. We should be out doing things.”
You pocketed the grocery list. You always were a good listener. “We should be falling in love.” I said. The corners of your lips twitched with the suggestion of a smile. My face immediately turned red. “Not with each other.”
You were wearing my shirt, and when we left the house this morning I must have noticed it, but only now did it begin to feel all wrong.
“It’s dark outside.” you said. “How can you possibly expect us to fall in love with no sunshine?”
I couldn’t tell if you were making fun of me. You suddenly looked impossibly sad.
“You’re wearing my shirt.” I said, finally.
And then your face bloomed and you smiled so your teeth showed, as though all your monsters had been put to rest. As though you’d looked outside and suddenly the sun was rising.
“Okay.” you said. And you took your shirt, which was mine, off in one motion, right there in the grocery store. And you grabbed my hand, softly, and led me out into the night time. The produce lay forgotten behind us, in the middle of the aisle floor.
It was going to be a beautiful Monday.