Kim Asks About Her Future With Ernesto by Dan Crawley
Ernesto and Kim were watching TV.
“I want to ask you something,” Kim said, propping herself a bit higher in the bulky recliner. “But I need to demonstrate something in order to ask.”
After Kim’s marriage busted up, she’d come to stay with her friend Ernesto.
“Okay,” Ernesto said.
“I’ll have to touch you. So stand up.”
“Okay.” Ernesto smirked and nervously grasped one hand with the other behind his back.
Kim heaved herself off the recliner. Her legs were as big as five gallon water bottles and her long arms were as skinny as garden hoses. (One out of the many complaints from her ex-husband was her body type: he now craved a carrot instead of a pear.) She raced toward Ernesto. He imperceptibly—maybe a quick wince in his left eye—flinched as she came at him. Kim hugged Ernesto’s paunchy middle, hard. Her front smothered his front, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. Ernesto hugged her back, only more fastidiously. Like saying hello to a dour aunt. Kim continued hugging furiously, her long fingers clutching handfuls of his T-shirt. Finally she pulled away.
“Umm,” Ernesto said, his face a low sheen, beige interior.
“Whew,” Kim said, her face bright red, beads of sweat on her neck. “There‘s more. Ready?”
She lightly stepped toward him again. This time her forearms barely perched on his shoulders, her fingers like feathers against his neck. A good three inches remained between the two friends. Ernesto, this time, didn’t bother hugging Kim back. His hands nervously wrestled with each other behind his back. She immediately let go.
“Now tell me,” Kim said, her whole face now wet with perspiration, “why do you sometimes hug me like the first way and then other times hug me the other way?”
Ernesto acted relieved. “Oh, man. Okay. That’s an easy one. The first one is for when you’ve gone back to California—you know, for meetings with your lawyer or to see your friends—and the second one is for when you’re heading out for groceries or gas and you look like you need a hug.”
Kim left for California that day and never returned.
***
About the Author
Dan Crawley
Born: Southern California
Now Resides: Phoenix, Arizona
Bio: Dan Crawley’s work has appeared in the North American Review, Quarterly West, SmokeLong Quarterly, and elsewhere. Dan writes to ward off unhappiness. Dan is very happy these days.
***
image by Coma7053.
-
eventheboneswilldo reblogged this from glossolaliaflash
-
glossolaliaflash posted this
