Windward Review Volume 19 (2021): Empathy and Entropy

After the play was over, the kids were allowed to say hello to their
parents. Lumi was perfection and Emily hugged her close and listened to her
excited squeals and giggles, and ‘did you see me?’ that poured out of her. She
was the kind of child anyone would miss. She was an easy child. Emily knew
that if she waited too long, Lumi would never bounce back. She was still young
enough to shake her stupid suicidal mother from her life.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him hugging and kissing a little
girl who looked nothing like him. She must take after her mother. Off they
went back to class, and she sighed at the thought of making her way back
into the reality where handsome strangers didn’t talk to her, and her daughter
wasn’t taking her breath away with her very existence.
She could hear the pills crash against each other each time her purse
moved, so she made it sway back and forth.
“Coffee?” she heard behind her.
“Yes,” she said with absolutely no hesitation. They began to make
their way to the back of the cafeteria--the lunch ladies were beginning to chat
loudly, throwing their pans around creating clatter and clanging. She could
feel the other mom’s eyes on her--these women who had never really paid her
any mind, now wondering, almost out loud, “her?” Those women who had it
all together in their work out clothes or Chico’s catalog outfits were wondering
how the woman dressed all in black was leaving with mystery daddy.
And even though it had been years since she had been able to actively
feel haughty, and a part of her wanted to grin at them, she knew that all of
this was putting off something inevitable. But, coffee would be nice.
…
Now, she could feel his eyes on her as she fixed her coffee. He, his
name was Sam, had not been shy about observing her. She could sense
amusement, surprise? Yes, she was meticulous--it was in her nature, always,
planning down to the last minute or drop of creamer.
“So what do you do?”
She stopped stirring her coffee. “Like, with my life? I’m a writer. I
wrote a novel a few years back. Some asshole even bought the movie rights.”
He sat back, “no shit.”
“Yeah. It didn’t even sell that well, so, it’ll probably be a shitty movie
too,” she sipped her coffee. “You?”
“Me? I’m a sports writer.”
“Right, you said that. Two writers. I’ve seen how that pans out.”
“What do you mean?”
“My ex is a writer. But, he’s never been published. Me selling the novel,
well, that was the beginning of the end.”
He regarded her now. Almost if he was reappraising a property. “He
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Empathy / Entropy