Spring ambled slowly down the street, her cheeks tight and itchy from dried tears. She'd completely given up on her appearance. What did it matter, anyway.
She had always been self-conscious about her weight, but she knew she looked ten times worse now, makeup smeared on her face, messy hair up in a sloppy bun.
She looked down at the toes of her shoes. They were black and worn from all the walking. Suddenly, she noticed a stray thread. The hem of her dress was fraying. It was her very favorite dress. It perfectly combined eccentricity with stylishness. She loved the bright pattern and the modest neck and length. The little details of the stitching were so-
Spring heard the screech of brakes and honking in her left ear. She turned and realized she was crossing the street at a green light. Before she could react, she saw the black SUV barreling towards her.
Turning in an ungraceful pirouette, Spring stumbled over her feet and fell on her backside. Baby Caleb's face flashed in her mind.
She barely managed to catch herself with her hands. She felt hot air on her face and smelled smoke.
Looking up, she found herself face-to-face with the grill of the SUV, the cursive words Ford aligned perfectly with her eyes.
Recovering from the shock, Spring slowly forced herself up. The driver of the car, a frizzy-haired, middle-aged woman, gestured violently at her. She rolled down the window.
"Are you crazy!" she shouted.
Spring brushed the grit from the road off her bum and hands. "Sorry," she mumbled, embarrassed for her obliviousness. She stepped onto the curb, and the driver sped off, still glowering at Spring out the window.
Spring recalled the flash of Caleb's face as she fell to the ground. She'd felt strange at the threat of getting hit by a car. Incomplete. As if she hadn't accomplished something important.
Strange.
Spring looked down at her dress. The hem was ripped clean through.
No comments:
Post a Comment