Pink, orange, and yellow tulips open, a bumbling bee boops into the petals, greeting each one with a humming hello. Ding. Vases of flowers crowd shelves, the smell masking the bite of cleaning supplies in the air. Alice pushes Clifford’s chair to his favorite spot near the window, and adjusts the small quilt in his lap, tucking the edges under his bird legs. Constance smiles gently towards him, and her appointment begins. She laughs and rejoices quietly, the news of an impending marriage bringing a smile to Alice’s worn face. Pretending to sleep, a low rattle echoes roughly through his chest as he breathes, his fingers clenching the neatly tied cluster of letters a little more tightly. R BOOM. Lightning flashes echo across the shop, creating ghastly shadows and strange ghouls. BOOM. BOOM. Static cracks from the old radio, the room smelling faintly of melting plastic, the result of it being left on just a little too long this time. Unmarked letters, strewn across the floor, are damp. Rain shatters the loud silence between each rumbling chorus, the curtain ripped from its place. The makeshift cot in the back office is heaped with blankets but the mountain of fabric does not move. The wind, an old friend, wreaks havoc, reclaiming the sleeping world for her own. R Ding. Ding. Laugher fills the shop, as women gossip about new found love, marriage prospects, and their beaus’ quirks and quibbles. Ding. Through the noise, small screeches breach the wall. Alice, with a knowing smile, asks to be excused, and grabs a cup of bird seed from the small bucket on her way out. the state of the container. The pair of brightly colored birds flap and flutter their wings in a frenzy! Pulling the top away, scaring a few feathers loose, she laughs. “Calm down you two.” But they flutter. And they flap. Screeching in unison, crying, “He’s here, he’s here!” R “It’s barely even empty!” She exclaims, seeing Page 50
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