144 lines
7.4 KiB
Plaintext
144 lines
7.4 KiB
Plaintext
,...
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$$$$
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$$$$T""P$$$ba, ,gd&P""T&bg. ,gd&P""T&bg.
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ggggggggggg $$$$ $$$$$b d$$$$ $$$$b d$$$$ $$$$$b ggggggggggg
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""""""""""" $$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$bxxP&$$&P """""""""""
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$$$$ $$$$$$ T$$$$ $$$$P T$$$$
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$$$"""""" " """" $$$$$$ "T&$bxxd$&P" "T&$bxx$$$$$' " """"""$$$
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""" """""" """
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ggg "A Simply Pink Dress, and Other Things" ggg
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$$$ by -> Rhea $$$
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$$$ $$$
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$$$ [ HOE E-Zine #923 -- 12/01/99 -- http://www.hoe.nu ] .,$$$
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`"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""'
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I.
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"Sometimes staring at the stripes on my sneakers just isn't
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enough, you know?" Charles said, staring down at his sneakers.
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Marvin blinked. "They're ugly sneakers, anyway," he said with a
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shrug.
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"No... that's not it..." replied Charles slowly. "They're just...
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boring."
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Marvin blinked again. "Then why are you wearing them?"
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Charles shrugged. "Because I'm bored," he replied. Marvin rolled
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his eyes and stared off into the west. Charles stared at his
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shoes.
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After a few moments of this intense staring, Marvin gasped.
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Charles looked up.
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"What?" asked Charles, looking to the west.
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"There she is," whispered Marvin. His eyes squinted a little.
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"Who?" asked Charles loudly. Marvin glared at him for a moment,
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then went back to staring to the west.
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"She. Her. The girl," he replied vaguely, his voice still hushed.
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"But I don't see a girl," insisted Charles, still loudly.
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"Right there!" exclaimed Marvin finally, pointing.
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Charles looked, and saw. "Oh," he said lamely. "That girl. What
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about her?"
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Marvin shook his head. "You mean you don't see it?"
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Charles shook his head harder. "See what?" he asked, frustrated,
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his voice thick in confusion, thick like the dirt on his sneakers.
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"She's beautiful," said Marvin simply.
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"Oh. Yeah."
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She was far away, but her hair was curly and brown and her dress
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was pink. She was walking east.
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"She's walking this way!" exclaimed Marvin.
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"So?" asked Charles dully. He stared at his shoes with a sigh.
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"You aren't even looking!" hissed Marvin angrily. "Look at her!"
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Charles glanced to the west at the approaching girl. He shrugged.
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"She's wearing a pink dress," he declared.
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"It's a beautiful dress," whispered Marvin in awe.
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Suddenly, east was here. She was here.
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"Do you have the time?" she asked Marvin in a gentle voice. Her
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knowing eyes were laughing at him.
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"It's uh... 3 o'clock," stammered Marvin.
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She turned to Charles. "I like you sneakers," she said, then
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walked to the east, away.
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Marvin and Charles turned immediately and watched her.
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"She's beautiful," exclaimed Charles as she walked away.
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Marvin shrugged. "She's OK..."
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II.
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The pink telephone cord dangled off the table carelessly.
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"You should have seen these two guys," laughed Claire carelessly
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into the telephone. "They couldn't stop staring at me. And one of them
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had the ugliest sneakers..."
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"I can't believe you noticed his sneakers," the telephone replied.
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"You're right, it was a weird thing to notice," said Claire. "They
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were actually very original shoes. I'd never seen anything like them
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before."
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"But they were ugly?" asked the telephone. There was a pause.
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"Yeah... they were..." Claire replied eventually.
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"Why were they ugly?"
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"I don't know! They just were."
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The telephone laughed. "It sounds like you disliked them just
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because they weren't like usual sneakers, the kind of sneakers you're
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used to."
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"No!" exclaimed Claire, indignant. "At least I don't think so. It
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couldn't be that... I'm not like that. Am I?"
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"Relax Claire!" laughed the telephone again. "They were just
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shoes!"
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"I have to go, Mary," said Claire quietly. "I'll talk to you
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later."
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Claire hung up the white phone with a click. Were the sneakers
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really ugly? She wondered. The cord still dangled.
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It was 6 o'clock, the clock beside her bed told her. Three hours
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ago... thought Claire vaguely. A curly brown hair fell in front of her
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eye. She brushed it away, then stood up. She was determined.
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She went back to the park. Would they be there? She wondered.
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Would the boy with the sneakers still be there? She had to see.
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Finally, she was through the park gates. The white stones of the
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path crunched under feet. Would they be there? Would they?
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Marvin was there, she saw him -- but she didn't know it was Marvin
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yet -- and she recognized his stare immediately.
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She walked right up to him and stopped. She waited. He stared.
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Finally, he opened his mouth, inhaling, diaphragm flexing, vocal
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cords vibrating, then exhaling, "Hi."
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Claire smiled. A little bit. She waited.
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Marvin went through the painfully slow process again while she
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waited and said, "What's your name?"
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"Claire," she said shortly, simply, passionately, desperately.
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"I'm Marvin," he continued, in the same breath.
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"Are you?" she asked.
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He paused. Her hair was brown and curly. Was he? Her dress was
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pink. He didn't know.
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"Charles thinks so," he replied finally.
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"Who is Charles?"
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"The guy with the sneakers. My best friend."
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The guy with the sneakers! Claire brightened. "Where is he?" she
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inquired hopefully.
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Marvin sighed -- a deep inhale, a heavy exhale. "Looking for
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you," he told her quietly. He turned away from her pink dress and the
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cruel simplicity of her speech and turned to the west and turned into a
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perfect picture of indifference, as perfect as the setting sun.
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Claire shivered as he walked away. As he walked away...
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But where was Charles? Where were the sneakers?
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III.
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Charles roamed the streets to the east of the park for a while.
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There were no girls with curly brown hair. He felt desperate. He ran back
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to the park, his sneakers slapping against the pavement.
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Marvin was gone. Charles looked around, silently observing the
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evening shadows of the trees. The white street lights flicked on. And
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then he saw it, on a bench under a tree that had been dark and silent -
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he saw the pink dress. He saw the girl. The girl.
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He didn't know what to say. She stood up silently. They stood
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silently. Silently, silently, they stood.
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Finally, Charles reached down and untied the dirty white lace of
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his left sneaker. He slipped the shoe off. Then, he tried to untie the
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knot on his right sneaker. It was stuck; he just yanked the shoe off
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impatiently.
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"I want you to have these," he said to her with deep feeling. The
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stones pressed into his bare feet painfully, but he ignored it. He was a
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tough guy. A tough boy. Was he?
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She knew. "Thank you," Claire replied, taking the shoes. The white
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laces dangled carelessly. She walked away to the east with his sneakers
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happily. They would see each other again, he knew. She knew.
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He stared down at his bare feet. They almost shone in the glow of
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the white street lights. They were beautiful.
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[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #923 - WRITTEN BY: RHEA - 12/01/99 ]
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