Beauty
She was beauty, essentially.
Her heavy lids perpetually snoozed right above those eyes you would look into and smell how she likes her coffee in the mornings: black. She would have had the eyes of a frightened doe if she weren’t so glacial during those misty mornings. You never caught her sleeping. Everyday you would wake up and try to grasp at that last bit of waning warmth which laid on her side of the bed. The sheets would still be crinkled like the furrow of her brow whenever she was upset—she was upset a lot. You walked into the kitchen and there she stood, your over-sized white collared shirt draped over her slender form. The sun would light up the parts of your shirt her body could not fill as the wind billowed through the sleeves. She turned towards you but only enough to catch your silhouette out of the corner of her impeccably round eyes. You saw that her arms were crossed over her chest. You saw that one index finger tapping away expectantly. You had no idea how to satisfy that index finger, and she would never tell. You did not leap at her for an embrace she would never reciprocate. You didn’t even know if you would be able to wrap your arms around her or if she would dissipate into the autumn breeze rolling through the window, the window you forgot to close last night. Instead of leaping, you went into the bathroom to brush your teeth. She turned back towards the window.
A Dialogue: “What’s wrong?”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure that I’m not just… just—”
“—Just what?”
“Do you not find me sexually appealing?”
“No! No. That’s not it at all.”
“So then why—”
“—No. I just… I didn’t want to finish too quickly, so I kept having to suppress it, you know?”
“What?”
“It was like, I had to tell my penis, ‘No’. I had to be like, ‘No, Penis. Not yet’. Then it was like, ‘But why not yet, Clark?’. And after a while it just… got frustrated and gave up.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Am I sure, what?”
“Are you sure I’m just not… sexually unappealing anymore?”
“I am absolutely sure. You’re very sexy.”
“…”
“…”
“Can I put my underwear back on?”
“Sure.”
“Actually, I’m gonna put on pajamas, too.”
“Alright. I love large shirts on girls.”
“What?”
“Large shirts and no bras.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Come over here.”
“Hey Clark?”
“Yeah?”
“What do you want to be when you’re older?”
“I want to be rich.”
“Really? That’s your answer?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you so set on being rich?”
“I mean, why not be rich?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been concerned with monetary success.”
“I like to buy things. Expensive things. I like living in luxury, so I should be rich.”
“That’s so silly to me. Would you still want to be rich if you wouldn’t be happy?”
“What?”
“Like… if you had to choose between being rich and happy.”
“Well, if I were rich, I would be happy.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“But that’s the logical answer.”
“But I meant that you had to pick one or the other.”
“Yeah, but in real life I wouldn’t. Being rich means being happy for me.”
“That’s so silly. Do you want to have kids?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Well why not?”
“I don’t want to have to deal with them. Ever. I just don’t need children.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“…Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Want to have kids.”
“Yeah, I do. I want to pass on my genes, at the very least, and then cultivate the kid so it gets good at what genes I couldn’t give. I don’t know. It might be a little more than that. Just the thought of having a kid seems nice.”
“That’s too much responsibility for me.”
“I see.”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you like smiling with your teeth showing?”
“I don’t like my nose.”
“What?”
“My nose is like a hawk beak. It makes my smile look really weird.”
“I like your nose.”
“Thanks.”
“Will you smile with your teeth showing for me?”
“Uh… Sure.”
“It looks nice.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s getting late.”
“That’s alright. I can stay a bit longer.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Plus I already packed.”
“Right. And don’t forget your belt when you leave, again.”
“I won’t.”
“So this is over?”
“Hm?”
“This is the end. We’ll be done when you leave tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t cry, please.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t cry. It’ll make this a lot harder.”
“Okay. I promise I won’t cry, then.”
“Alright, I should go, then.”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, Beautiful.”
“Bye….”
