Waving Not Drowning

Joe's hitting the bottom of the bowl. Twenty minutes and the candy is gone. Floor's littered with wrappers, hands sticky with waxy chocolate. Bit of a train wreck. All for naught. Hustling home, desperate to find something resembling a pumpkin to carve, nearly slicing to the bone as the dull paring knife slides off the gourd and into his finger. Joe wonders why he tries so hard. It's expected of him, maybe, he doesn't know. All the hustle and bustle at work, everyone dressing up and gorging on cookies and cake all day like it's the end of the world instead of the end of the month. Head is raging, there's a migraine coming on. Too much crap. Sugar and coffee and cheap sparkling wine. Carly's wedding shower, with a Halloween theme. Terrible idea. The wedding singer meets the walking dead: who'd want that as an omen for upcoming nuptials. The weather's terrible. Unseasonably warm with hurricane force random gales of wind. He checks the candle in the blo...

The sound of her best friend laughing, choking back snorts and hiccups because she's lost her breath, doubled over and weeping with hysteria. The goosebumps on her forearms when she feels the wind brush over her skin at dusk on a perfectly clear, cool late summer eve. The unexpected email from a stranger halfway around the world thanking her for being herself, sharing her story so that others may grow, understand and feel less alone in their struggles. Fresh organic berries with a cashew cream whip and iced Americano in the backyard hammock. Her sister, miles away, ever present in her heart and mind and all over the house draped in her artwork. Her parents in her. DNA, mannerisms, the tilt of her head while gesticulating with arms akimbo, leaning on her hip, as if to underline her point. Sunrise. Possibility. The last cookie at the cafe while bumping into old friends and impromptu catch up dates. Warm skin next to hers, arms wrapped loosely around her waist, head tucked into a ches...