Ficlets

The Grass is Greener

“High School Algebra?” I said, gathering the few rational brain cells remaining in my blubbering skull. “That must’ve been a long ago.”

“Oh, no,” she said, flashing that smile that reinforced faith in this world. “It was only last year, but don’t worry, I kicked Rick out months ago. How old are you?”

“Twenty..ugh..three,” I replied, hoping she hadn’t noticed my hairline that had just recently begun to abandon my forehead for the greener pastures of the back of my head. “New topic,” I thought to myself.

“You hear the new Killers record?” I said, having read Rolling Stone that morning.

“I downloaded it and it was OK I guess.” said Carolina. “Look, things are dead here and I was thinking about closing early. Wanna come back to my place?”

As she said this, she briefly touched my hand. Even if I wanted to say no, I don’t think I would’ve been able. If I hadn’t been so enamored with her, I would’ve noticed this same scene had played out many times before, though I had seen less of the regulars lately.

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