Fine

This is a little mini-story - well, a scene really - that I wrote during a 30 minute sit-down event with some other writers. Here's the prompt:

1)      Set it in summertime.

2)      Start with a lie.

3)      Include the phrase “Everything’s been different since…”

4)      End with a truth.


            “I’m fine.”

            Anna doesn’t respond. The broken air conditioner buzzes in the background. It’s even louder than the cicadas outside, and just as good at keeping the room cool.

            Jen wipes the sweat from her forehead. “I’m fine.”

           “You’re sitting in the worst café in Dallas, drinking at noon-“

            Jen’s eyes flick to her wineglass – almost empty – then to the waiter – busy.

            “-you just lost your job-“

            “Hey,” Jen interrupts, “that’s not-”

            “-and you’re with me.” Her words hang in the air like a car falling off a cliff. Outside, a particularly daring cicada raises its voice over the drone of the AC unit.

            Jen licks her lips, pondering. “Okay yeah, it seems bad, but when you think about it-”

            “You’re still with me.”

            Anna’s seen corpses give stares less dead than Jen’s.

            “And…” Anna speaks slowly, gauging Jen’s reaction. “I seem to remember you had some. Uh…words. About what you’d do, if you ever saw me again.”

            Jen grips her wineglass, and tiny ripples dance across the surface of the cheap white inside. “Anna…” The word sounds like broken glass between her teeth.

            Okay, yeah. Time to stop on that particular thread. No need to make her mad. Unlike the Jen of years before, the Jen of today probably wouldn’t do anything…but Anna saw no sense in chancing it. Perhaps a safer path was in order. “You wanna…talk about it?”

            “No.”

            “But you’re gonna.”

            “…I am, dammit. See, it’s shit like this that got you booted back in Houston.”

            Anna shrugs. “I wanted out. I got out.”

            The sound Jen makes sits about halfway between a sigh and a growl. “Yeah.” She tosses back the rest of her wine, raises the glass at the waiter. “Lucky fucker.”

            Anna flashes her a grin. “And now that we’re both out, we’ll ride across the desert like Bonnie and…uh…”

            “Louise?”

            Anna’s face hits her palm. “That…didn’t go where I wanted it to.”

            “Never does,” Jen says, but she’s smiling now. She lifts her wineglass. It’s still empty. She shakes her head. “It’s just, everything’s been different since Pedro left.”

            “Pedro left?”

            Jen nods.

            “So, Frankie…”

            “So,” Jen nods. “Frankie.”

            “Shit.”

            “Shit,” Jen agrees.

            The waiter ambles up, wordlessly fills Jen’s glass.

            “You’l be okay?” says Anna.

            Jen picks up her glass. She considers it, makes as if to toss it all back in a single gulp. Then she stops, sets it down. “I’m fine.”