A vaguely romantic short-short for Valentine's Day
Short-short #8
Every month, a new short-short!
Waking up next to you this morning, he’s thinking about that evening in mid-May when the two of you were biking through Manhattan and you both turned west onto 34th Street. You’d heard the term “Manhattanhenge” before, heard mentions of how, only twice a year, the sunset perfectly aligns with the so-called “urban canyons” and every bit of brick and concrete blazes with oranges, yellows, and reds. Seeing it in person, though, caught off-guard, swallowed by the incandescent colors you hadn’t realized you’d spent the year yearning for—that was something impossible, indescribable to anyone who hadn’t seen it. That evening, you’d talked about it, and he mentioned how weird it was to him to think that the sun is nothing but nuclear explosions, destruction incarnate, but everything on earth spends months at a time craving its light, its heat. Danger and nurture, united.
Right now, you’re still snoring next to him, wrapped in the dinosaur onesie you’ve been sleeping in for weeks. You’re embarrassed to wear it so often, but you’ve found it’s the only way to keep warm since you dropped those ten pounds to fit into the wedding dress. Sometimes he reminds you that it was supposed to be a Halloween costume, not something you would live in forever, but you always punch him in the shoulder when he does.
In a moment, you’ll wake from a nightmare, one you’ll likely forget the moment you blink the sleep from your eyes. In the dream, you’re 500 feet tall and destroying Tokyo in your dinosaur onesie, knocking over buildings and vaporizing tanks with your breath as the artillery shells bounce off your fleece-covered skin and civilians run screaming, their lips not quite matching their dialog. You’re roaring things at them about cake samples and alterations and bridesmaids and tablecloths and tulle. Stomping on cars and streetlights, and then you turn a corner, and at the other end of the street, he’s just standing there.
You look at him. He looks back at you, and you wonder if he’ll turn and run, if you should grab him and climb a skyscraper, if you should just back off and let him go.
You’re wondering about this, but he’s right here listening to you snore, glad you’re getting some rest, and secretly wishing you’d forget the tulle and the tablecloths and even the white dress, and just come barreling down the aisle to him, dressed in that damn dinosaur onesie and lit with the impossible colors of a billion bright suns. 🕹🌙🧸
⬅️ In case you missed it: On twisted ankles and reappearing agents
Yo dawg, I heard you like words
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That was a perfect little nugget of a love story. Thank you so much for sharing it!
The best Valentine's Day story of the day, so far🥰