A blog wherein our hero Gdub attempts to create at least one new thing each day.

29. French Fries

Being the oldest, much responsibility fell on my shoulders as a child. Just one such responsibility was to hold the bevy of soft drinks that would come teetering though the window, to my mother’s hands, and into mine, each time we went and got fast food. The cup holders were usually little more than lightly compressed paper-mulch, and so it took exquisite acrobatics to keep a major spill from happening. The consequence of this focus was that the food had to be passed to the back. Somehow, my sister always got the bag with the fries.

“Deborah, do you have the fries?”

“Uhhh, geeze, Iduno, I hadn’t noticed…”

“Nice one. I know you have ‘em.”

“So what if I do?”

“Don’t touch them until we get home.”

“Why would I do that? Some of us have patience, Aaron.”

“I swear…if I don’t get any fries…”

“Aaron, calm down. You’re accusations are really tiresome.”

“What’s tiresome is juggling these drinks while you eat all my fries.”

And so the discussion would go; all the way home we’d argue about fries. And when we got home I’d look in the bag and notice each container was half-full. And you know what she’d say?

“Stupid place never fills them up all the way. Mine are just as empty.”

11. Ending A Night (part two)

Feeling the warmth from Jeremy’s embrace dissipate, Gina felt herself stuck in time. Thoughts bolted from in her mind; short electric bursts from synapse to synapse. She could still smell his sweet, dark, cologne that reminded her of a million different things all at once; memories of good moments. What was remarkable was the fact that for the first time in years she’d felt something—a spark. She was excited. She thought of the next time she could see him, if she should call him, when she should call him, how soon she could do so and not seem clingy, if he had felt the same thing, or if perhaps it was all in her mind. Maybe this was a bad idea. After all, she thought, it wouldn’t be smart to rush into something based off a hug. Then, Jeremy interrupted his departure to utter a final goodnight.

That meant more than Gina could imagine. He was thinking of her, and as he pulled away Gina sat in her car, just breathing it all in.

10. Ending A Night (part one)

Jeremy’s heavy hands fell sinkingly into his pockets, slipping naturally
home. Pivoting, he walked toward his car. Conscious of every cracking
pebble between the soul of his shoes and the pavement, all the sounds of
the night flooded his ears. The chilled air of the late hour forceably
pushed it’s way deep into his lungs and somehow it was easier to look up
into the pincushin pattern of the sky’s lights then stare down. At once feeling both
great and miniscule, Jeremy reached for the cold metal door handle and
looked back for one final glance at what he’d left behind.

There she was, standing still, a wry smile drawing a subtle line accross her face.
She hadn’t moved, not one foot, from where they’d said their goodbyes.
His thoughts stammering, Jeremy reached for the simplest of them, pulled it down,
and offered it saying, “good night.” Only after had the irony of the phrase become
apparent; the truth of it was that he couldn’t tell whether the night had been
good or if it had been a failure. Still, in the moment Jeremy took comfort in the
agitating feeling of not knowing. This was because the unsurety of the moment not
only left room for failure, but it made place for hope that this could be the
beginning of something amazing. It was that moment of intense anticipation when the
clank-clank of the chain carries the roller coaster car to the top of it’s climb, and
something incredible is about to happen; for better or for worse.