Our Magpie Luck

Mostly, I try not to let myself think about you… but under today’s snowstorm, a sky full of doves shedding their cold white feathers, I thought about you…

I was thinking about that one Valentine’s Day when we were living in that efficiency where we had practically nothing. We were happy there. We should have stayed there. That year, on Valentine’s Day, it snowed liked the vindictive curses of angry god’s upon our heads. Figuring we were mostly shut in, we decided to walk to the library and rent some classic movies. You voted for Casablanca. It seemed right for the occasion.  We set out on a journey without the haven of shoveled sidewalks for safety. You walked ahead of me, like you always did…I was behind you, trying to hopscotch into the imprints left by your big boots in calf high snow. I was always trying to fill holes in your presence with my own…Our snow-dampened wool coats smelled like hay. The fringe on our scarves were stalactites of ice…I kept trying to hold onto your cold, marbled hand, while maniacally dodging the greasy shift of vehicles rounding corners…drivers struggling for control till their tires slid into the troughs left in the road by others. But I trusted we’d make it…that was always my mistake when it came to us. We finally arrived at the library & tried to push the door open…only to find the library was closed. We looked at each other, you swore quietly and we laughed at ourselves & our magpie luck.

You suggested we go get a Valentine’s Donut instead. We gathered ourselves up & rounded the corner, headed to Dunkin Donuts. We laughed at slow moving cars sliding, frictionless, into snowbanks, gently coming to rest with a crunch of snow. Catastrophe surrounded us without touching us for once–making us feel like we were controlling it…Aroused with our imaginary power, we kissed in the middle of the road, laughter behind our blue tinged lips. Your beautiful, green eyes-sober & clear & happy. Your dark curls dripping wet under your cap. I wanted you then. God, I loved you so much.

As the world drifted on ice, orbiting around us, we made our way to Dunkin. The snow polka-dotting our vision, we finally made it…only to find no victory against elements: Dunkin was also closed. In that moment, the magic wand was a switch snapped over a knee, splintered into useless little matchsticks. Feeling the expiration of some spell, I realized my feet were throbbing and my fingers were bitten red by the rabid cold. My eyes welled up & I wiped my nose with my soaking sleeve, “Alex, I’m cold.” “I know, Bunny, I know. I’m sorry.” We slowly trudged home without saying a word, realizing there was no magic we possessed that would ever let us win.

But it’s amazing how easy it is to convince yourself you’re conjuring a storm in a snow globe when you just don’t want to recognize it for what it actually is: the crystal ball that already knows how it ends for us…

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January 29, 2019

I’ve commented before on what an excellent writer you are and I’ll comment again.  You truly are talented.

January 31, 2019

@wildrose_2 you are too, too sweet! I think I just have a lot of fodder….

January 30, 2019

You truly are such an amazing writer!

January 31, 2019

@dancingthrough *hugs* thank you, doll!

January 30, 2019

“Of all the donut joints in all the towns in all the world, we just had to walk up to the one that’s closed when it’s cold as balls outside.” -Humphrey Bogart, Casablanca (from a deleted scene)

Strange how a brief, fleeting experience can in hindsight be seen as a microcosm of a larger trend (here foretelling a relationship’s inevitable sad ending).

I may now forevermore think of dove feathers falling from the sky when it snows.

January 31, 2019

@drbajahi if it had been raven feathers, you would have thought about it nevermore…ha! Joke!

I’ll have to watch the extras on my Casablanca dvd, don’t remember that deleted scene. Lol.

January 31, 2019

@thecriticsdarling Quoth the raven, “Well played.”