Livian Brian let his gaze drift over me slowly, and small hairs at the back of my neck stood on end. The exchange took less than a second, but it revealed to me that he too had learned to pass inspection. It was dangerous, and more than I was frightened that he could pass, I was terrified that he knew I could as well. He had the power to, in an instant, expose me and effectively draw my careful planning to a close. If he were anyone but Livian Brian I might have had the same power over him, but as it were I didn’t.
Tag Archives: original prose
“Do you know, that before your mid-life crisis you have at least four other crises?”
That’s amazing, riveting, I think dryly. Jane likes to share things she’s learned with the rest of us. It, likely, makes her feel very cultured and intelligent. Not much intelligence in reading the first story you come upon in some lifestyle magazine at the dentist’s office. Without a source to credit validity simply comes down to performance.
And so I sit on a cream slip cover segmented couch, swirling the untouched wine in my glass. I don’t drink, I’d said.
He had two cavities. One in his upper molar on the right side and the other on the left. Michelle smiled at him and pulled the teal mask over her face.
“Open as wide as possible please.”
His lips cracked and broke on either side. He thought distractedly that he should have put something on. He almost used a lip-balm sample he found under the sink in the bathroom, but thought better of it. Shiny lips on a man he thought, what would people say?
I used to think the everyone’s purpose in life was simply to live. It didn’t matter whether that meant conducting heart surgery to save a child’s life, or sitting in an alley shooting up. As long as there was blood in your veins and air in your lungs you were living. It took me eighteen years to realize that life wasn’t like that. The mailman delivering shitty rom com dvds from Netflix, the mother of two, even the astronaut in space, none of them were living. Not really.
The blue horizon stretched across my vision and wild blooms with strange dotted petals bat against my legs. Dad would have loved it. They all would have. Giant shining beams of light flashed in the distance. It was like granddad’s movies from when he was a kid. At first I never wanted to watch them. They were black and white, the sounds were made by people, and the effects by shining different lights on the screen. Soon I found myself looking forward to those nights. Now it was just me, Evie, and flashing beams of light against a blue horizon.
There had always been something peculiar but fascinating about Ezra Cloud. Charlie saw it in the way he walked—a confident stride even with the tip of his right foot turned inwards. He had the appearance of being a boy of fortunate mistakes. His haircut was asymmetrical and most days he dressed in a mismatched array of colours and trinkets always paired with dark blue jeans. He was a boy, she thought, unlike other boys.
Honour hadn’t spent much time in school paying attention to Alicia, but now he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Maybe it was because, unlike her peers, she hadn’t changed in their four years of schooling. Instead of shifting and becoming someone new, or going through countless embarrassing phases, she was the same brown haired, brown-eyed girl he used to see almost everyday. Or maybe it was because she was pressing the barrel of a shotgun flush against his chest.