Blue is good. Like the cloudless sky and crisp, clean water.

Yellow is dirty. Like a hazard, a warning, or a terminal disease.

For the kids whose parents had prepaid for their school lunches, they stood in line holding blue cards.

I did not hold a blue card. I was one of the kids that received free lunches. Not “reduced” lunches, no. I qualified all the way to the last step: fully subsidized.

I would stand in that lunch line, clutching tight to the only reason I would eat that day. I wished for some way to hide the yellow color of my card as it felt unreasonably visible in my small hands.

Lunch was free, yet it cost so much.

Via a one word reply

With punctuation

And an emoji

That felt off

Challenge: “Tell me how your heart was broken”

As the tour guide paused to give historical details to her group, she ran her hand along the old wall.

A sense of deja vu hit her vividly, powerfully.

All at once she was laughing, running hand-in-hand with her love along the moonlit cobblestone alley. The night air was warm and fragrant with jasmine blossoms. He breathlessly twirled her around to face him. They did not have much time tonight, but it was all either of them had been living for. Her hands went to his head, fingers grasping his thick, wavy hair as they shared kisses that tasted faintly of berries and chocolate. He fumbled beneath her long skirt for a moment until her cheeks were cradled in his hands. He lifted her purposefully to him and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt the stone wall against her back while a much more welcome and heated hardness pressed into her eagerly. His sounds of pleasure were muted as he buried his face into her collarbone exposed by her disheveled peasant blouse—

“Signorina, stai bene?”

The tour guide's concerned query brought her back to the present. She had been slumped against the wall with her eyes closed and she was moaning. The other members of her group were gathered around saying she must have fainted from the heat. One stranger fanned her with a magazine. Another offered her a bottle of water.

“No, no I'm fine.” She embarrassedly waved away their assistance.

As the tour moved on, she quickly fished a pen out of her fanny pack and made a notation on her map. She needed to do research and learn everything she could about the history of this place and the apparent connection to her distant past.

I wanted to take this opportunity while I am still able. It looks like we will soon need to purchase at least a basic membership in order to be able to write, like, comment, and DM. I'm unsure what this will look like going forward and I just wanted to let you know in case I suddenly stop interacting and/or don't reply to DMs :(

Here for now,

Mariah

p.s. If you post anywhere else, please let me know! I would love to continue to read your fantastic work ♥️

Oh! Hello there. You are coming home with me.

Kayla felt slight guilt as she knelt down and picked up the Philodendron piece from the floor of the home improvement store.

It's technically not stealing, right? I mean, scraps like this are just going to be swept up at closing time and tossed in the trash, right? What a waste. I'm actually rescuing it if you think about it. Yeah.

She carefully tucked the heart-shaped piece into her hoodie pocket.

On the drive home to her tiny apartment, she placed her passenger on the dashboard and excitedly brought her up to date on all things Kayla.

“…and I am soooo close to graduating. And when I do, I'm definitely gonna land a kick ass job somewhere — maybe even in one of these places,” She gestured upward toward the towering glass buildings as she drove through the medical center streets. “And you're coming with me, of course. You are going to have your very own spot on my desk!”

Kayla prattled on, feeling excited for the future and surprisingly, a lot less lonely all of a sudden. It felt good to speak her hopes and dreams out loud— even if only to a drooping leaf.

When they got home, Kayla placed her new roommate in a glass of water and set her on the kitchen window sill. She made a mental note to pick up some potting soil soon.

It will be so nice to have someone to talk to for a change. Now, she needs a name. Hmm…

Kayla smiled as it came to her.

“I hereby dub thee Philomena. For it is a strong name and a good name for a friend.”

You can't pour from an empty cup.

The saying came to mind as Cara washed dishes. She remembered the ignored emails, canceled plans, vague excuses, messages left on read… all the receipts of wasted effort toward her various “friendships”.

Residual heat crept through the kitchen towel as she dried her favorite mug. Cara held it tightly as a tear slid down her cheek. Her sadness ebbed as the mug grew cold. She placed it in the back of the cupboard, no longer easily accessible.

With silent resolution, Cara closed the cabinet.

No more pouring into those that leave me empty.

I’m so blessed

To know someone like you

Who excitedly asks

“Did you see the moon?”

Why yes, my friend

You know I did

And when I looked up

I thought of you too