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She’d been walking for months, it seemed. Fingers tightening on the pendant around her neck, she paused, turning, trying to figure out which way to go. She’d been lonely all her life - no chances at grand romances, no meeting of eyes across the park, no sudden spark of warmth or a spike of cold… her friends all seemed to have found their soulmates close to home.
But not her.
Had she wandered too far? Had her soulmate perhaps died? Hadn’t yet been born? Would never be born?
She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears of frustration. She was all alone, and always would be. Might as well go home, go to work, forget about weddings and houses with
white picket fences and children playing in the yard.
***
Dust trailed after her as she hefted her knapsack. This had been stupid, taking another journey. Her fourth in the past ten years; she’d be thirty tomorrow. Why had she come this way, anyway? Always circling the earth, hoping for even the slightest change in temperature.
Thirty and still alone. It was shameful in her small town - hadn’t she found her soulmate yet? Maybe she was soulless, her students had mocked.
Being a redhead doesn’t make me soulless! she’d wanted to scream, but didn’t. Instead, she planned her trips, her journeys, pendant resting against her skin, its only warmth from the heat of her heart.
***
“Happy birthday to me,” she muttered, poking at the bland diner pie in front of her.
“It’s your birthday?” the waitress, a hefty girl whose name tag read ‘Liza’, handed her her check with a sincere smile. Her pendant glowed, smooth and bright - she’d found her soulmate.
“Yeah.”
“And all alone?”
Roslyn fingered her pendant under her shirt. “Yes.”
Liza watched her, gave her another smile. “On your journey, hmm? So’s my brother. His fourth journey, and not a drop of luck. He’s probably halfway around the world right now…Come home with me tonight, Sweetie. We’ll watch a movie, and I’ll make you a proper cake.”
“I can’t impose -“
“Nonsense! It’s Jimmy’s birthday too, and, really, I should do for you what I hope someone would do for him.”
***
Liza was nice, friendly. Her wife, Clarice, was charming and so were their sons. The movie had been a kid's movie, but she felt…welcome here. It was warm and homey in the little trailer park, photos of family outings and love cramming every shelf.
In fact, they were so nice that she’d stayed three days before realising she’d never leave otherwise.
Roslyn was in the middle of packing her knapsack when the phone rang - Liza answered, her voice filled with love. Clarice calling from her work, maybe.
No, the other voice was deeper - not that she’d meant to pry, but it was a small home and sound traveled. A nice voice, deep and strong, but colored with sadness.
“Jimbo, you’ll find your someone,” Liza was saying. “No, I doubt that the fact your chain broke is affecting the pendant any. Why don’t you come home?”
Roslyn smiled sadly. At least she wasn’t the only one alone. Wandering into the kitchen, she began writing a note for Liza and Clarice, thanking them, when an old photo on the fridge caught her eye - clearly, the frizzy blond curls belonged to Liza, posing like Wonder Woman in her swimsuit. But the boy…the boy next to her had to be her brother, with his dark hair and wide smile. So happy, so unlike the sad voice on the phone. His pendant gleamed against his skin, and she gaped, trembling fingers brushing the glossy paper.
She nearly tripped over her feet to get to Liza; she must have looked a fright, for the other woman pressed the phone to her chest. “Roslyn? What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“Where is he? Exactly?”
Liza laughed. “Just like I thought he’d be - exactly halfway around the world. He’s spent the past few days in a little town, nice folks, but they look at him funny.”
“Tell him to come home.” She smiled at her, pulling out her pendant. “Tell him I’m here, look - we must have been traveling at the same time, always staying the same distance apart.”
“Jimmy!” Liza’s voice was glorious to hear. “I got her! That sweet girl staying here is for you! Come home!”
***
Would he like her? Just because they were soulmates didn’t mean love was instant. Was he as warm as his sister? As kind as his nephews? Was he as happy as the little boy in the photos Liza showed her?
Roslyn didn’t know and it ate at her. But it had to be him - her pendant was finally warming, growing hotter. So alone for so long…
“He’ll like you, don’t worry - how anyone couldn’t love you is beyond us,” Clarice said, dropping a casual hand on her arm. “Liza will be back from the airport soon.”
The boys were already in bed, and she twisted her fingers nervously at the sputter of the rusty minivan pulling onto the gravel. Her pendant was so warm it was nearly burning.
I’m going to throw up, she thought wildly, even as she stood and took a shaking breath.
But the door swung open and there he was - Liza’s brother, Jimmy, her soulmate; his heart was in his eyes as he stared at her. Was she everything he’d wanted? He didn’t know anything about her, but he was rushing across the small room.
His arms were warm and strong, and he smelled like recycled air and loneliness and hope.
“I’ve found you - finally,” he said in a choked voice. “Oh, thank god you’re here…”
She held him back, tears coming freely, not noticing Clarice and Liza bringing in his bag.
“I’m sorry…I’ve looked and looked…”
“I was giving up,” he whispered, pulling back to look at her. His eyes were blue and bright. “I was going to - Oh, thank god we’re together…”
And their kiss was perfect, a warmth that soothed her, filled every aching hole in her soul.
This man, Jimmy, was her home.
She was home.
But not her.
Had she wandered too far? Had her soulmate perhaps died? Hadn’t yet been born? Would never be born?
She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears of frustration. She was all alone, and always would be. Might as well go home, go to work, forget about weddings and houses with
white picket fences and children playing in the yard.
***
Dust trailed after her as she hefted her knapsack. This had been stupid, taking another journey. Her fourth in the past ten years; she’d be thirty tomorrow. Why had she come this way, anyway? Always circling the earth, hoping for even the slightest change in temperature.
Thirty and still alone. It was shameful in her small town - hadn’t she found her soulmate yet? Maybe she was soulless, her students had mocked.
Being a redhead doesn’t make me soulless! she’d wanted to scream, but didn’t. Instead, she planned her trips, her journeys, pendant resting against her skin, its only warmth from the heat of her heart.
***
“Happy birthday to me,” she muttered, poking at the bland diner pie in front of her.
“It’s your birthday?” the waitress, a hefty girl whose name tag read ‘Liza’, handed her her check with a sincere smile. Her pendant glowed, smooth and bright - she’d found her soulmate.
“Yeah.”
“And all alone?”
Roslyn fingered her pendant under her shirt. “Yes.”
Liza watched her, gave her another smile. “On your journey, hmm? So’s my brother. His fourth journey, and not a drop of luck. He’s probably halfway around the world right now…Come home with me tonight, Sweetie. We’ll watch a movie, and I’ll make you a proper cake.”
“I can’t impose -“
“Nonsense! It’s Jimmy’s birthday too, and, really, I should do for you what I hope someone would do for him.”
***
Liza was nice, friendly. Her wife, Clarice, was charming and so were their sons. The movie had been a kid's movie, but she felt…welcome here. It was warm and homey in the little trailer park, photos of family outings and love cramming every shelf.
In fact, they were so nice that she’d stayed three days before realising she’d never leave otherwise.
Roslyn was in the middle of packing her knapsack when the phone rang - Liza answered, her voice filled with love. Clarice calling from her work, maybe.
No, the other voice was deeper - not that she’d meant to pry, but it was a small home and sound traveled. A nice voice, deep and strong, but colored with sadness.
“Jimbo, you’ll find your someone,” Liza was saying. “No, I doubt that the fact your chain broke is affecting the pendant any. Why don’t you come home?”
Roslyn smiled sadly. At least she wasn’t the only one alone. Wandering into the kitchen, she began writing a note for Liza and Clarice, thanking them, when an old photo on the fridge caught her eye - clearly, the frizzy blond curls belonged to Liza, posing like Wonder Woman in her swimsuit. But the boy…the boy next to her had to be her brother, with his dark hair and wide smile. So happy, so unlike the sad voice on the phone. His pendant gleamed against his skin, and she gaped, trembling fingers brushing the glossy paper.
She nearly tripped over her feet to get to Liza; she must have looked a fright, for the other woman pressed the phone to her chest. “Roslyn? What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“Where is he? Exactly?”
Liza laughed. “Just like I thought he’d be - exactly halfway around the world. He’s spent the past few days in a little town, nice folks, but they look at him funny.”
“Tell him to come home.” She smiled at her, pulling out her pendant. “Tell him I’m here, look - we must have been traveling at the same time, always staying the same distance apart.”
“Jimmy!” Liza’s voice was glorious to hear. “I got her! That sweet girl staying here is for you! Come home!”
***
Would he like her? Just because they were soulmates didn’t mean love was instant. Was he as warm as his sister? As kind as his nephews? Was he as happy as the little boy in the photos Liza showed her?
Roslyn didn’t know and it ate at her. But it had to be him - her pendant was finally warming, growing hotter. So alone for so long…
“He’ll like you, don’t worry - how anyone couldn’t love you is beyond us,” Clarice said, dropping a casual hand on her arm. “Liza will be back from the airport soon.”
The boys were already in bed, and she twisted her fingers nervously at the sputter of the rusty minivan pulling onto the gravel. Her pendant was so warm it was nearly burning.
I’m going to throw up, she thought wildly, even as she stood and took a shaking breath.
But the door swung open and there he was - Liza’s brother, Jimmy, her soulmate; his heart was in his eyes as he stared at her. Was she everything he’d wanted? He didn’t know anything about her, but he was rushing across the small room.
His arms were warm and strong, and he smelled like recycled air and loneliness and hope.
“I’ve found you - finally,” he said in a choked voice. “Oh, thank god you’re here…”
She held him back, tears coming freely, not noticing Clarice and Liza bringing in his bag.
“I’m sorry…I’ve looked and looked…”
“I was giving up,” he whispered, pulling back to look at her. His eyes were blue and bright. “I was going to - Oh, thank god we’re together…”
And their kiss was perfect, a warmth that soothed her, filled every aching hole in her soul.
This man, Jimmy, was her home.
She was home.
Literature
Paper-Thin Promises
the first time I caught sight of your
glistening, marble eyes,
I decided you disgust me.
I hate you the way I hate perfection:
merciless, like the snap of mantis jaws.
every fact of you is pretentious,
held high like you raise a middle finger.
You, the artist, always sculpting things,
tried to squeeze my malleable heart like white clay
and stash it in your pocket to rattle with stones.
paint me an unflinching self portrait, my dear:
this skyscraper of a boy shaking with anticipation
to build and destroy, build and destroy.
you sink in tooth and talon at first mention of beauty,
love-biting Aphrodite as though you were equals.
you're a statu
Literature
Latreuophobia
I wash off sick-sweet orange lipstick in front of a mirror as dusty as gothic romances. It tastes like oblivion, that is to say, like nothing my tongue can detect.
The door opens with a creak no private restroom could emulate. Some chick with blue bobbed hair and smeared eyeliner. I looked like that once. Ten years ago.
Getting the beer out of my hair is harder. Some men just can't take it when I'd rather they not kiss my feet or call me an angel or-
“Dayum girl, you look like a goddess.”
I gulp, taste of acid.
Literature
Beginning We End
Him, in the very beginning:
He is eighteen when he gets his death sentence. Unlike most death sentences, this one isn't going to send him to the guillotine or maybe the noose. Instead, it's handed to him by a doctor with very clean hands in a stark white room probably very similar to the one he'll end up dying in. And it's not the type of death sentence carried out by an impassive executor. He's essentially going to kill himself. He is dying from the inside out.
He mumbles something at the doctor, and suddenly he is on the street, a white piece of paper fisted and crumped in his hands. He's grateful it has the prescription written on it in
Suggested Collections
Well, there's a post on tumblr:
"I wish there were necklaces given to us at birth that were half of a unique shape and your soulmate wore the other half and they got warmer the closer together you were and colder the further away you were so you could go on this journey when you’re ready to find your other half so that you could be spared all the pain and heartbreak of being played with by those who don’t take dating as seriously as you do"
"I wish there were necklaces given to us at birth that were half of a unique shape and your soulmate wore the other half and they got warmer the closer together you were and colder the further away you were so you could go on this journey when you’re ready to find your other half so that you could be spared all the pain and heartbreak of being played with by those who don’t take dating as seriously as you do"
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Comments2
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I love the idea behind this story. If only! This story kept me captivated with emotion and plot.