Old fragments.

In interest of not being boring, I’ll be reposting old things I wrote that I’ll never finish. Why not? This is the internet! This is the first amendment! Etc, ad nauseam, in a privileged and silly vein.

"Strays", part one

They stopped just outside of Oklahoma City to eat, and even with a near-total dearth of vegetarian options, she managed to find herself torn between two: steamed vegetables and iceberg salad. She glanced up from the menu to see him perched, slender hands folded before him on the table, waiting patiently. When the waitress showed up she told him to order something if he wanted to, and he asked for a hamburger. While they waited, his eyes lingered out the window on their U-Haul, which they had parked awkwardly across two spots with the sun setting behind it. They had lingered too long in the South, where neither of them had ever been before. Now they would have to drive all night and day for nearly two days to reach San Diego in time for him to start work. And then what?

His hamburger came and the decision could no longer be delayed. She looked up at the waitress, on whose face she read judgement and patience at once, and asked for french fries. He laughed. She turned her dark head down in mock embarassment; what sort of vegetarian ate only potatoes?

The fries arrived within minutes. They burped steam into the air when she tore them in half with her teeth. The first one burned a little, but no matter — the salt, the grease (animal fat? she didn’t care to think about it), the rough texture in her throat were enough to make it worthwhile. Their eyes met across the table, and though she felt the momentary urge to look away, she did not, and they shared a long gaze of indeterminate meaning. What was he thinking? That she ate too fast? (She did.) Unlikely. That she was pretty? (She hoped was.) He occasionally said so, and always seemed to mean it. That he loved her for her oddities? (They were many.) And if he did, what did that mean?

You’re missing out, he said at last.

On what?

Meat tastes good. It’s good for your soul.

And then he smiled.