The following is an excerpt from my short story "She Knew":
When she got the call, she knew. When he didn’t show when he said he would, she knew. He was dead. There was no doubt.
The call came early the next morning while her roommates were still asleep. Kelly was up, taking advantage of the rare quiet in the house, sitting in the kitchen with her coffee. The kitchen was at the south end of the narrow rental house, the sun coming in through parted curtains over the sink. She was struggling through the assigned Henry James when the chirp of her phone made her jump.
On the phone, Kirk’s friend was full of sympathy for her, but Kelly didn’t cry. How could she be sad for him? Kirk had crashed his motorcycle on the Boulder Turnpike on his way to see her. A truck changed lanes without seeing him. Arrangements were being made for a funeral.
She would have to go, she knew. Standing in the morning kitchen, twenty-year-old linoleum beneath her toes, she knew she would go to the funeral. She would have to look sad. Wear black. Be sullen. She was his girlfriend. Even though she was going to break up with him. It was really why she’d invited him up to Boulder, despite midterms next week. It was time to end it. Her bad-boy phase was coming to an end. At least that would explain the difference between Kirk and Gavin.
When she got the call, she knew. When he didn’t show when he said he would, she knew. He was dead. There was no doubt.
The call came early the next morning while her roommates were still asleep. Kelly was up, taking advantage of the rare quiet in the house, sitting in the kitchen with her coffee. The kitchen was at the south end of the narrow rental house, the sun coming in through parted curtains over the sink. She was struggling through the assigned Henry James when the chirp of her phone made her jump.
On the phone, Kirk’s friend was full of sympathy for her, but Kelly didn’t cry. How could she be sad for him? Kirk had crashed his motorcycle on the Boulder Turnpike on his way to see her. A truck changed lanes without seeing him. Arrangements were being made for a funeral.
She would have to go, she knew. Standing in the morning kitchen, twenty-year-old linoleum beneath her toes, she knew she would go to the funeral. She would have to look sad. Wear black. Be sullen. She was his girlfriend. Even though she was going to break up with him. It was really why she’d invited him up to Boulder, despite midterms next week. It was time to end it. Her bad-boy phase was coming to an end. At least that would explain the difference between Kirk and Gavin.
No comments:
Post a Comment