{"id":2276,"date":"2021-07-17T14:27:51","date_gmt":"2021-07-17T21:27:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2276"},"modified":"2021-07-18T17:40:37","modified_gmt":"2021-07-19T00:40:37","slug":"grab-it-where-you-can","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2021\/07\/17\/grab-it-where-you-can\/","title":{"rendered":"Grab It Where You Can"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story where a character runs into someone they\u2019ve seen in their dreams, or enters a building they\u2019ve dreamt about before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was in my dream again. Six feet of whippy muscle under pale ochre skin with a splash of deep brown freckles across her nose, one tusk chipped just enough that it was noticeable, thick, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wasn\u2019t a beauty, small and thin for an orc, and kind of plain. Still, like every other time she showed up in my dreams, my heart skipped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stood under the shower, both to wake myself and to clear the dream girl from my head. Orcs weren\u2019t usually my type. In fact, the only girl I\u2019d ever dated that wasn\u2019t human like myself was Gwendolyn, the gnome I dated in high school. We made an odd couple, the captain of the girls\u2019 basketball team and the nerdy little gnome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There were chores to do, and I needed to get my head in the game. I rinsed out the memories of Gwen, and the dream girl was there again every time I closed my eyes. To keep my mind on task I began reciting my grocery list. It was all in my phone but thinking about it before I got to the store helped me plan out my route. That was something I\u2019d picked up from Gwen, looking at tasks in terms of efficiency.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Normally, I\u2019d do all my running around in sweats, no makeup, hair pulled back and allowed to fluff itself into a semi-afro puff. For a change, I dressed in jeans and a loose top. I held the concealer in my hand, looking in the mirror. I thought about covering the vitiligo, then thought against it. I hadn\u2019t hidden my skin since high school, and there was no reason to start now. My skin was a medium red-brown with patches of pinkish white. One patch intersected my right eyebrow, that half of it white rather than dark brown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I put on some lipstick, since I still hadn\u2019t gotten comfortable with my pale lips in the center of a large white patch on my lower face. Satisfied, I left to do my weekend chores.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Self-consciousness didn\u2019t set in until I was pushing the cart with its wobbly wheel through the grocery store. Here I was, dressed up for someone I dreamed about. No one seemed to be paying any attention to me, except for the guy that ogled me openly. He was quickly dissuaded when I glared at him, though.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Most of my shopping done, I only needed to go to the deli counter for some ham. I turned the corner around the large coolers of energy drinks next to kombucha and overly sugared vegetable juices and there she was. Not right there<\/em>, but behind the deli counter. Had I seen her there before, and my brain was reminding me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I walked up to the counter to order, and she turned and asked, \u201cHow can I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My heart stopped for a moment, then began to pound. I stammered, unable to speak. She was no raving beauty, but something about her lit a fire inside me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cC\u2014can I help you?\u201d she asked again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry, you just\u2026,\u201d I said, \u201cI thought I recognized you. How long have you worked here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI just started today.\u201d She smiled. Her smile was crooked, genuine, and completely breathtaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2014uh, one pound of honey ham, please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll get that started for you. Anything else?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour number,\u201d I muttered under my breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She laughed. \u201cYou really don\u2019t remember me, Angela?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2014no, but I\u2019ve been seeing you in my dreams for a couple weeks now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat would be a crappy pickup line, if I thought you were making it up.\u201d She was already an inch shorter than me, but she squatted down another foot and held her hand out as if giving me something. \u201cGreat game, Angela. I warmed your towel on the heater.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It snapped into place. \u201cGrace! You look so different!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not the short, chubby orc anymore,\u201d she said. \u201cNow I\u2019m the short, scrawny orc.\u201d Her laugh was genuine; not melodic or angelic or anything of the sort, just a hearty, genuine laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry I didn\u2019t recognize you. But, how\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI got back into town a couple weeks ago. I saw you going into Crazy Clara\u2019s with another woman. I didn\u2019t think you saw me, though. I waved and you passed by.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI must have missed it, at least consciously.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas that woman your girlfriend?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d There was a hint of pink rising in her cheeks, the same blush I\u2019d seen a hundred times before when the awkward little towel girl would give me my special towel. \u201cNo, just a coworker. You should\u2019ve come into the bar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She turned away and reached into the case to pull out the honey ham. \u201cI\u2019ve never, um, been to a gay bar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a great place to hang out. And not everyone there is gay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She still hadn\u2019t looked back at me, setting up slicer. \u201cWith the way my parents were, I guess it still feels\u2026I don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cConservative parents?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey\u2026were.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, I didn\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI came back to take care of the house after the accident.\u201d Tears pooled in her eyes, and I wanted to run around the counter and give her a hug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of the other deli workers came and whispered in her ear. She nodded and the other woman took over slicing the ham as she walked around the counter to where I was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was no intention in my hug other than to offer comfort, but it felt like so much more. She laid her head on my shoulder and wept. \u201cI miss them so much.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We stood like that for a few minutes until she composed herself. \u201cHere I am all grown up, and you\u2019re still protecting me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She and Gwen ran in the same circles, although they weren\u2019t close. Still, I\u2019d threatened the bullies off her a time or two in high school. I guess I always did feel a little protective of all of them. \u201cJust being me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stepped back. \u201cSorry, I bawled all over your top.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019ll dry.\u201d Before I realized what I was doing, I\u2019d begun to wipe her tears with a gentle thumb, and she leaned her head into my palm. \u201cSorry if that was too forward of me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grace sniffled and shook her head. \u201cNo, I liked it.\u201d She took a deep breath and looked at the floor. \u201cCould you go to the funeral with me?\u201d Her voice was barely above a whisper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I took her hands in mine. \u201cOf course. Just tell me where and when.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks. I don\u2019t think I can handle it alone, and everyone\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGive me your phone,\u201d I said, \u201cand I\u2019ll put my number in. You can call me any time, whether you just want to talk or whatever.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She unlocked her phone and handed it to me. As I put my number in, I said, \u201cAnd after you call me, I\u2019ll be able to call back and ask you out on a date.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I handed her phone back to her, she immediately called my cell. It rang once and she hung up. \u201cNow you have my number.\u201d Her cheeks were burning red.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re really cute when you blush,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ll call later this evening.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She nodded and went back around the counter, where the other deli worker was waiting. There were whispered words between them, and Grace handed me the package of sliced ham. \u201cI get off at four. Remember where my parents\u2019\u2026my house\u2026is?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn the cul-de-sac off Druid, near the big park?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, the bright yellow house. The funeral is tomorrow. If you could pick me up at home around nine\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be there.\u201d I smiled at her, my heart aching at the sadness I saw in her eyes. \u201cI won\u2019t let you go through this alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you, Angela.\u201d She leaned against the counter. \u201cYou know what Mercy just told me? She said we\u2019re a sweet couple.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell. You\u2019re certainly sweet,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2014I feel guilty.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe funeral is tomorrow, and I\u2019m sad, but I\u2019m also happy that you\u2019re here.\u201d Tears pooled in her eyes again. \u201cIt\u2019s not the right time to feel happy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey,\u201d I said, holding her hand across the counter, \u201cthere\u2019s no wrong or right time or place for happiness. It comes in little pieces, here and there, and you have to grab it where you can.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She smiled, a crooked, sweet smile beneath sad eyes, and squeezed my hand. \u201cGrab it where I can. I like that. Call me after five?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write a story where a character runs into someone they\u2019ve seen in their dreams, or enters a building they\u2019ve dreamt about before. available at Reedsy She was in my dream again. Six feet of …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,209,220],"class_list":["post-2276","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-short-story","tag-urban-fantasy"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-AI","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2276","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2276"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2276\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2278,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2276\/revisions\/2278"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2276"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2276"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2276"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}