East Avenue
9
"Can we leave?"
Joey sighed softly. Whether I was meant to hear it or not, the sound bothered me. It was inconvenient, sure, but the air in the store was growing thick, colors blurring together, the man's voice a few feet from me became isolated until he was all I could hear. My throat was thick. There must have been something in the expression on my face that alarmed Joey, because he gripped my hand and pulled me out into the entry way. The carts were dirty, I looked at our intertwined hands instead. His face flushed, and immediately he recoiled.
"What was it?"
"The older man next to me."
He nodded, and gestured back inside, "Well Garrett... I've still got some things to get in there. I'm sorry. Will you be okay waiting? Look, a fuckin claw machine. You want some quarters?" The smirk on his face was endearing, and I laughed.
"Fuck you. And hurry up."
He trudged off, I stuck a hand in my pocket and ventured over to the machine. The stuffed animals inside caught my interest, deemed relevant for the moment. They were trapped just like I was. Just like Joey was. He didn't realize it, but I can see what I do. Margaret brought many things to my attention whether she intended a message beyond freak, or not. I learned. I learned Joey won't stick around in a situation where he's constantly forced to be what is needed at that certain time. A mold. And I don't want him to leave. Maybe I should be what he needs instead.
My face pressed against the glass. I imagine myself as a child, but I didn't like it. I took the place of a stuffed bear inside instead. and could relate to that much easier. Fate could be in someone else's hand if I was on the inside, everything depending on fifty cents and a stranger's luck.
Joey came back, paper bags underneath each of his arms, nudging my shoulder with his chin. "Let's go. I'll order a pizza, we can fuck around on netflix, and pretend we don't have any responsibilities."
I didn't have to comment on the fact he lives that way all the time, but he could see it in my eyes and shook his head, laughing. We left, and I wiped at my forehead with my sleeve as we walked to get any germs off that transferred over from the glass. With Joey here, the machine, the bear, the glass, were once again unimportant. Ugly.
Joey sighed softly. Whether I was meant to hear it or not, the sound bothered me. It was inconvenient, sure, but the air in the store was growing thick, colors blurring together, the man's voice a few feet from me became isolated until he was all I could hear. My throat was thick. There must have been something in the expression on my face that alarmed Joey, because he gripped my hand and pulled me out into the entry way. The carts were dirty, I looked at our intertwined hands instead. His face flushed, and immediately he recoiled.
"What was it?"
"The older man next to me."
He nodded, and gestured back inside, "Well Garrett... I've still got some things to get in there. I'm sorry. Will you be okay waiting? Look, a fuckin claw machine. You want some quarters?" The smirk on his face was endearing, and I laughed.
"Fuck you. And hurry up."
He trudged off, I stuck a hand in my pocket and ventured over to the machine. The stuffed animals inside caught my interest, deemed relevant for the moment. They were trapped just like I was. Just like Joey was. He didn't realize it, but I can see what I do. Margaret brought many things to my attention whether she intended a message beyond freak, or not. I learned. I learned Joey won't stick around in a situation where he's constantly forced to be what is needed at that certain time. A mold. And I don't want him to leave. Maybe I should be what he needs instead.
My face pressed against the glass. I imagine myself as a child, but I didn't like it. I took the place of a stuffed bear inside instead. and could relate to that much easier. Fate could be in someone else's hand if I was on the inside, everything depending on fifty cents and a stranger's luck.
Joey came back, paper bags underneath each of his arms, nudging my shoulder with his chin. "Let's go. I'll order a pizza, we can fuck around on netflix, and pretend we don't have any responsibilities."
I didn't have to comment on the fact he lives that way all the time, but he could see it in my eyes and shook his head, laughing. We left, and I wiped at my forehead with my sleeve as we walked to get any germs off that transferred over from the glass. With Joey here, the machine, the bear, the glass, were once again unimportant. Ugly.