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Rated: E · Fiction · Emotional · #2304580
Emotional Flash Fiction. Was practicing emotion through body language and dialogue
          Neither Sarah nor Jeff felt it should be such a beautiful morning. Part of them both wanted it to storm; to be raging with angry bolts of lightening streaking across the sky, with rain drops the size of Cadillacs dropping from dark clouds that seemed intent on destroying the earth below. They both wanted Armageddon. Not cheerful birds chirping. Not sunshine and blue skies.

         A hand brushed through Sarah's thick brown hair, as she stared down at the phone on the patio table in front of her. A change of scenery wasn't helping. "You know it's his birthday. I'm going to get a few things for him. Thought maybe you'd want to come."

         "You know I got to work," Jeff said, an unlit cigarette dancing at the end of his lip. He stared out into the hills from his back yard, listening to the birds chirp and the highway roar out in the distance. He held a cup of coffee in his hands clutching it like a shield, the cigarette his sword.

         "Didn't figure you would," Sarah grumbled. "It's only his birthday, it ain't like it's anything special."

         Jeff chuffed, biting off a sarcastic comment as he gritted his teeth. "As if that makes a damn bit of difference."

         Dark eyes glared at him through brown strands of hair. "It might if you made a fucking effort."

         He took a long draw from his coffee, sipping it but not really tasting the brew. "Birthdays aren't sick days," he said. "It ain't like I can call in for a birthday."

         Sarah shook her head as she stood, turning towards the house. "They would if you said it was for your son."

         Jeff chuffed again, but didn't say anything, just kept staring out at the hills, listening to the birds and the highway in the distance. Part of his mind wished he was anywhere but here. Anywhere but in this conversation. "I got to get going," he said. "Got to get to work."

         "It's alright," she mumbled. "I guess I'll make your excuses. Again." Sarah opened the door hard, clacking the sliding glass door in its tracks, then stepped inside, closing it with a firm clap.

         Jeff took another sip of coffee, the cigarette still in his lips. Unlit. Forgotten. His ears hearing the birds chirping. The highway roaring. His mind drifting into a darker, angrier place. Ain't like it'll make a damn bit of difference, he thought, not for the first time. Not for the last.

***


         Tall pine trees swayed at the edge of the stone wall. As Sarah walked, she held the toy truck under her arm, not really seeing the delicate etched stonework evenly placed in rows. She could walk the path blindfolded. She stopped down in front of a familiar stone square and knelt down. "Daddy says hello, he's sorry he has to work" Sarah said, smiling softly in spite of herself. "Brought you something from the two of us," she set a single small Tonka truck down on top of the stone. "Happy Birthday."
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