Horrid Thoughts with Hard Questions
Eating Sandwiches
When the trains stops, I feel surprised. We are here, and I find myself unprepared. We step off and onto the platform. The sudden solid, unmoving ground startles me.
"Lizzy! We made it!" Claire chirps next to me, eagerly rushing towards the nearest exit, her suitcase and I following dutifully behind her.
It is twenty hours prior to our departure; twenty hours from all of our troubles, and the sun was shining bright over the city. The smile on Claire's face is enough to make me feel like there isn't a thing wrong in the world.
I find myself in a state of elation, but my high quickly comes down as I realize our situation.
We have limited cash, no place to stay, and I don't have a job. Not to mention we don't know anyone in Florida that could help us with any of these problems.
But Claire seems happy, and I can't ruin that. She deserves to be happy. She needs to be happy. Otherwise, I don't know how much longer she can go on. How much longer I can go on.
For now, I decide we should eat.
Claire leads me to a tiny deli, following her nose as always. I trust her senses, and we go inside and look at the menu. We both order chicken sandwiches, and sip our water as we wait for our order.
"So, where do we go from now?" Claire asks, looking out the window with a satisfied smile gracing her features.
After a moment's thought, I reply, "Maybe we should find a motel room. There's bound to be one around here somewhere." She wrinkles her nose at the thought. Motels aren't known to be clean, but they are cheap.
"Yeah, I suppose. Then maybe we can go to the beach!" She suggests, excited for the surf and sand. I nod, but say nothing, and out of the corner of my eye I see our order heading to our table.
We eat in silence, our minds busy with all of our trafficking thoughts. Hers of the sandy shore of Florida, and mine of how I'm supposed to take care of her now.
"Lizzy! We made it!" Claire chirps next to me, eagerly rushing towards the nearest exit, her suitcase and I following dutifully behind her.
It is twenty hours prior to our departure; twenty hours from all of our troubles, and the sun was shining bright over the city. The smile on Claire's face is enough to make me feel like there isn't a thing wrong in the world.
I find myself in a state of elation, but my high quickly comes down as I realize our situation.
We have limited cash, no place to stay, and I don't have a job. Not to mention we don't know anyone in Florida that could help us with any of these problems.
But Claire seems happy, and I can't ruin that. She deserves to be happy. She needs to be happy. Otherwise, I don't know how much longer she can go on. How much longer I can go on.
For now, I decide we should eat.
Claire leads me to a tiny deli, following her nose as always. I trust her senses, and we go inside and look at the menu. We both order chicken sandwiches, and sip our water as we wait for our order.
"So, where do we go from now?" Claire asks, looking out the window with a satisfied smile gracing her features.
After a moment's thought, I reply, "Maybe we should find a motel room. There's bound to be one around here somewhere." She wrinkles her nose at the thought. Motels aren't known to be clean, but they are cheap.
"Yeah, I suppose. Then maybe we can go to the beach!" She suggests, excited for the surf and sand. I nod, but say nothing, and out of the corner of my eye I see our order heading to our table.
We eat in silence, our minds busy with all of our trafficking thoughts. Hers of the sandy shore of Florida, and mine of how I'm supposed to take care of her now.