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 |  My first ever Writing.com journal. |
| the big three hundred. and also, closing in on six thousand views. which is funny, because i feel like i just wrote about five thousand. i don't get it. but i'm glad you do. ***** Dinnertime. Pork for Aaron, fish kebabs and coconut salad for Shannon and Kailani. "Slow down," chides Aaron, frowning in between bites. "You'll be sick if you keep eating like that." Guilty pout. "I mean it, baby," he insists, wagging his index finger. "I'm not staying up with you if you don't feel good tonight." She lunges for another kebab, he catches her small wrist. Searches her face wordlessly. Releases her, finally, and watches her slower, more timid nibbles. He turns to Kai. "I have never seen Mommy like this," he stage-whispers. "Can you say ravenous?" She stares at him with wide hazel eyes, then goes back to pummeling her own dinner with tiny fists. "Wavenous," she whispers. * Late. Very, very late. * Afternoon. Aaron is sitting cross-legged on the beach, watching the girls play in the surf. He's got his notebook open in his lap, to establish a weak pretense: this is the sunniest spot at this time of day, and hence if he wants to write, he can't sit anywhere but here, sneaking frequent nervous glances at the waves. He needs to catch dinner. He needs to start the evening fire. But he's stuck here, rooted to this spot with a strange sense of urgency-- Don't take your eyes off, not even for a second. This is important. Not just Kai; watch Shannon, too. He waits. He watches. Finally the sun sets. Kailani comes barreling out of the water, suntanned and shrieking-wet. Shannon follows, and he relaxes. "What are we eating?" she asks breathlessly, helping him to his feet. * Nectarines. She's been dreaming about nectarines, and she wakes at dawn, wanting one. Aaron is half-conscious with Kai curled up on his chest, and Shannon pounces on him. "Morning already?" he rasps. "Think of all the fruits we'll never eat again!" she hisses, trying not to wake Kai; the words come out in a rush and she knows how random they are, but hopes he'll understand anyway. "Fruits, I, um?" "I really want a nectarine," she elaborates softly, and then instantly, inexplicably, bursts into tears. |
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