Perfectly Imperfect

Tracy waved feebly at the guy holding the dorm door open for her and winced at the bright sunlight. She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and squinted painfully. The straps of her stilettos were cutting uncomfortably into her feet, which were still swollen from all the dancing she'd done the night before. She tugged a little self consciously at the oversized sports shorts she was wearing with her shiny, spangled halter top and made a mental note to try and find what had happened to her skirt later. Her mouth felt fuzzy and dry, despite the bottle of water she'd chugged right before sneaking out of the dorm room. She adjusted her tiny purse on her shoulder and staggered down the building's stairs to the sidewalk.

It took a couple of minutes, but by the time she hit the main quad, her gait was even and steady, even if it did match the pounding in her head. When a perky, bubbly blond in a 'Jesus saves!' t-shirt popped up in front of her, she even managed a wan smile. The girl waved a pocket sized copy of the New Testament in her face and chirped, "Have you heard the word of God? Do you know if you'll see heaven after you die?"

Tracy smiled as sweetly as she possibly could at the girl. "Why wait until I die? I just took a quick tour last night."

***

IDEK. Seriously. I was trying to write a fic, and this scene just popped into my head and wouldn't leave until I wrote it down.

The days blended easily together. Every morning, Alice would wake up, shower, dress, feed the cat, fix breakfast, and munch on it as she walked down the stairs from her apartment to her coffee shop. There was more routine there. Wiping the tables, turning on machines, restocking, unlocking, stacking, unpacking. There was an effortless rhythm to it and, in that early time before the sun was fully risen and any customers or part time employees showed up, it was like she was starring in her own private dance. A glissade on her way to grind the beans, a ballon when she stretched to reach a tin of biscotti.

Then the first trickle of people would start to arrive, slowly at first, gaining in speed as the traffic swelled toward rush hour. By the time her favorite regulars, a young, newly married couple, always arrived, her movements were once again methodical and almost abrupt in their automatic responses. Harsh, practical movements that she showed the world, with none of the smooth grace that she longed to luxuriate in.

Every day, Alice watched the couple-so happy and young and in love and devoted and content-and wondered exactly when she'd started thinking that the loneliness and disappointment that steadily grew in the aching hollowness of her chest were normal.

***

Just a little original drabble that wouldn't leave me alone. Actually, it's the first original fiction I've written in months, so if you liked it, please let me know.