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Picture

Heaven

Sandy entered the coffee shop and stood behind the seven people lined up in front of the register. Outside, the sun peeking over the rooftops of the surrounding businesses painted the clouds pink. As she gazed at the scene, the music from the shop’s speakers slipped into her ears and tickled her consciousness. The raspy vocals. The dramatic guitar. And the words: “And love is all that I need/And I found it there in your heart/It isn't too hard to see/We're in heaven.”

She briefly closed her eyes. When she re-opened them, the tile floor of the coffee shop was replaced with hot white sand burning the tips of her toes. Nearby, kids were jumping over small waves crashing against the shore. Something touched her slender fingers. She looked down to find Robert’s hand wrapped around them. Her heart skipped and her cheeks grew warm. She lowered her eyes to the grains of sand clinging to his legs before bringing them back up to his face.

He smiled. Behind him, boats sailed in the strip of pink receding on the horizon. One of the children chased after a board swept by the ocean current. Nearby, someone’s radio played that song. At that moment, nothing could have been more perfect for Sandy. She drew closer to him. Their lips touched.

“Miss!”

The beach vanished. White incandescent light burned away the cloudless summer sky. Squinting, she found herself standing in front of the cashier.

“Miss, you ready to order?”

She covered her face and fled into the women’s room. She leaned against the back of the door while warm tears trickled down her cheeks. Someone knocked.

“You okay in there?” a woman asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sandy answered, splashing cold water on her face.

“Sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m sure.” Sandy fixed her makeup before returning to the line to buy two iced coffees. She tried to ignore the eyes of the other customers as they followed her.

When she arrived home, her husband, Max, was sitting on the front steps, holding the baseball cap she’d bought him years ago. The red lawn mower, caked with dirt and grass, was parked to the side. He seemed deep in thought.

She handed him his iced coffee—dark roast, no cream. “I need to go to the office,” she said.

He furrowed his brow. “But it’s Saturday. You never work on Saturdays.”

She faced the thin, wispy clouds in the now-blue sky but only saw Robert and his smile again. “I know, but—”

“—Whatever.” He shrugged and sipped his coffee.

On the way to her car, she hummed the song until the roar of the lawn mower’s motor drowned it out.

waves crashing

Sandy entered the coffee shop and stood behind the seven people lined up in front of the register. Outside, the sun peeking over the rooftops of the surrounding businesses painted the clouds pink. As she gazed at the scene, the music from the shop’s speakers slipped into her ears and tickled her consciousness. The raspy vocals. The dramatic guitar. And the words: “And love is all that I need/And I found it there in your heart/It isn't too hard to see/We're in heaven.”

She briefly closed her eyes. When she re-opened them, the tile floor of the coffee shop was replaced with hot white sand burning the tips of her toes. Nearby, kids were jumping over small
waves crashing against the shore. Something touched her slender fingers. She looked down to find Robert’s hand wrapped around them. Her heart skipped and her cheeks grew warm. She lowered her eyes to the grains of sand clinging to his legs before bringing them back up to his face.

He smiled. Behind him, boats sailed in the strip of pink receding on the horizon. One of the children chased after a board
swept by the ocean current. Nearby, someone’s radio played that song. At that moment, nothing could have been more perfect for Sandy. She drew closer to him. Their lips touched.

“Miss!”

The beach
vanished. White incandescent light burned away the cloudless summer sky. Squinting, she found herself standing in front of the cashier.

“Miss, you ready to order?”

She covered her face and fled into the women’s room. She leaned against the back of the door while warm tears trickled down her cheeks. Someone knocked.

“You okay in there?” a woman asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sandy answered,
splashing cold water on her face.

“Sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m sure.” Sandy fixed
her makeup before returning to the line to buy two iced coffees. She tried to ignore the eyes of the other customers as they followed her.

When she arrived home, her husband, Max, was sitting on the front steps, holding the baseball cap she’d bought him years ago. The red lawn mower, caked with dirt and grass, was parked to the side. He seemed deep in thought.

She handed him his iced coffee--
dark roast, no cream. “I need to go to the office,” she said.

He furrowed his brow. “But it’s Saturday. You never work on Saturdays.”

She faced the thin, wispy clouds in the now-blue sky but only saw Robert and his smile again. “I know, but—”

“Whatever.” He shrugged and sipped his coffee.

On the way to her car, she hummed the song until the roar of the lawn mower’s motor drowned it out.

waves crashing is an erasure.
Source: Sourced from Heaven written by Christopher.

Picture
Christopher Iacono lives with his wife and son in Massachusetts. You can learn more about him at cuckoobirds.org.
COPYRIGHT © MOONCHILD MAGAZINE 2020.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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