July in Colorado
If you saw us through the window, I don't think you'd recognize us. If anything, I think we'd just look like two people holding Blizzards upside down, spoons in hand, readily waiting to see if they’d ever fall or if they could withstand the urge to drip.
I don’t really know how we got here or where here is exactly. I just know were are somewhere in Colorado for the fact that you can see the outline of its mountains as the sun goes down. I’d go as far as to call us tourists but there isn’t anything else worth seeing. The only attraction seems to be the Diary Queen’s neon lights that shine through our blinds. It’s not necessarily inviting but tonight it’s my treat. I put on my new dress so that he can see me, see just how the maroon falls, hugging all the right places.
The humidity makes the thin fabric stick to me as we run out into the road. The cars keep driving and you take my hand. For a minute it feels like everything is how it should have always been. The headlights shine brighter in an effort to show us off. It feels like summer love among the lights. But the heat it brings makes my hair frizz and my palms sweat as I let go.
Like most places located in small passing-through towns, it’s walking distance from the motel. The sign flickers, the neon sounds tired, but it’s late and it’s open. I pick the table in front of the window facing the road. The town's name isn’t important I decide. I'd like to think of it as a rest stop, on the road to someplace better.
As I watch the traffic dull, and the lights dim I think about us. You sit across from me, but I talk into my cup. Do you think they wonder who we are? I think we’ve run out of things to talk about. Do you think that they know we aren’t really from here? I look at you and me and we look like we belong in this place.
My vanilla ice cream is missing the vanilla, but it's cold, and I pick out the brownie pieces, ignoring the fact that they've grown stale. You get what you pay for, and I paid fifty extra cents for fudge.
Do you think that they can hear the silence through the window?
Comments
Post a Comment