Flash fiction - Two's Company

Another writing treat of a day and another cool prompt over at Studio 30 Plus. This week it is precarious perch. It's funny how some words just have such a strong pull in a certain direction. Read below and then check out the other entries and you'll see what I mean. There's good company over at Studio 30 Plus, so click on the icon at the bottom to read more. Thanks for stopping by.

Two’s Company

While I sit here on my little wooden perch, strung between the bars at either end of my world, I watch her and wonder if it is not she who dangles, who forever tries to stay steady on her own precarious perch in her world which, if we’re honest, is hardly greater than mine.

The curtains, drawn, shading the glare of the afternoon and dousing us both in pale yellow light, reveal nothing beyond these faded flowered walls, sideboards full of fine china, soft upright chairs which never get creased. 

I try to listen beyond this silence to sounds that come from other birds in the green and open place I glimpsed a long time ago; or maybe I have only dreamt it. Now, I cannot remember. 

Holding the furniture with all her might, holding onto anything for dear life, she shuffles to the window, maybe hoping today will be the day she looks out. But no, her chair welcomes her back just seconds later and the moment has passed. Her hands are back in her lap, rolling over each other’s emptiness and the pain of having no other hand to hold. 

It is then I wish I was more than feathers and could offer a hand through the bars. 

Marriage

I sit in the darkness, typing, near midnight. The Argentines sleep around me. Do they ponder, as I ponder, the how, the how, the how?

How can two people truly spend their lives together and still love each other until death do us part? Are we really animals of lifelong monogamy, or as usual are we being blinded into these things? In the green corner we have the condors, squawking away about the bliss of mating for life. Sharing a nest, a view, the upbringing of chicks, is unique and wonderful, they claim. Together you make some thing, grow something and make it fly, they say. It's special. And there's always someone there, warming the nest for when you return.

It's interesting that many animals that do mate for life are birds. I mean, they have more freedom than most, being able to fly away whenever they want and not come back. And yet they do.

In the red corner we have the elephants. No one hardly ever messes with them (except those human bastards) and they do OK. They get it done, with hard work and patience. Their time spent in pairs is sporadic, yet with purpose. I applaud that. It reminds of being at university.

With two weeks to go until 'I do' why am I dreaming about all my ex crushes, boyfriends, trysts and lovers? During the night my mind is somehow dealing with my upcoming nuptials in a way that during the day doesn't even occur to me. How many lines must be drawn? People I haven't even thought about for years pop up and must be buried in the sand. That's fine, I don't want to build a castle for them. But the more this goes on, the closer it gets, the more every breath with the word marriage strikes me across the chest and my heart stops beating a second longer.

It stops beating because I love him, adore him, am in love with him. It stops beating because I've never done anything so enormous with anyone else. It stops beating because this is the most serious thing I'm ever going to do. It stops beating because there was me and him and now, always, there will be us.

And then I breathe again. Another second passes and I am still me. And I can still fly.

So I do.