Eight Hundred and Fifty-Four Steps

   “A pocket full of posies,” Sally thinks as she opens her eyes. Sun bright behind the curtains quickens her pulse, and she claws through the sheets to check the time. Only nine. “Hopscotch, hopscotch.” Why is this rhyme in her head? Out, out. She checks her list against the day ahead, though it will be impossible to balance them. One inevitably outweighs the other.

   She dresses for the gym, remembers she must grab the bags for the market. When she stops to drink from a fountain, she sees she has crossed the city. Instead of shopping bags, she has slung a backpack over her shoulder. She’s wearing a cotton shirt, jeans and hiking boots. Across the street from the fountain is the theater, shuttered and brown, where they saw an adaptation of Bodas de sangre destroyed by that horrendous troupe from Seville. Afterwards, they crossed the city together, far into the night, projecting the future.

   Sally continues, taking long, determined strides as if the impulse of her forward motion will conjure the plaza, the bridge where they stood at midnight. She is certain the village is far away. He drove while she drifted into the countryside, felt the splashing runoff wet the poppies, smelled the sheep and the shadowy pine forests. At the end of a curve was a stone bridge, washed gold in a bluesky sunset.

   Amy would be home from school soon. Sally stops and breathes in. A car whooshes by. She stands at the lookout over the city, squints into the sun. The sky meets the sea in a clear sharp line out past the hospital the cathedral the hotel the cruise ship. Amy is somewhere else now. Toulouse? New York? Far away. Happy enough.

   “Hopscotch, hopscotch, we all fall down.” Sally picks a sprig of fennel from the roadside. He taught her what it looks like, how it tastes sharp, fresh. Makes her mouth water. She shifts the backpack onto both shoulders and shakes her arms. Steps on sunshine.

   

 I stood on the bridge at midnight as the clocks were striking the hour -Longfellow

Quote given for the week gave up 333 words for Light and Shade Challenge

Since You’ve Been Gone

 I am looking very carefully through the tall grass. The path goes from the garage to the well, and the key is gold. If I don’t find the key, I will have to ask the neighbor to saw the bolt. The bolt is expensive, and the neighbor has an unappealing gleam in his eye. I have not replaced the stolen chainsaw, which is not the proper saw for cutting bolts in any case. I may as well look for the washer that fell off the hose, a small, black rubber ring. Meanwhile, I just missed stepping in wild boar dung.

  

“If you don't find it in the index, look very carefully through the entire catalogue.”

-Sears, Roebuck, and Co., Consumer's Guide, 1897

 Quote given for the weekend 100-word at Light and Shade Challenge