Pilar strode towards the car, looking amazing in a yellow sundress. For a brief moment, I remembered the first time I’ d seen her. I had tripped over myself in an effort to introduce myself. Somehow this beautiful woman had let me into her life. I’ d pg 16 been grateful then, but now I realized I’ d been the prize in this relationship. Every man before me had been typical, buying her things, paying her bills, and the only places she’ d been before me were Vegas and Miami. In our relatively short two years together, we’ d taken at least ten trips. I didn’ t want to buy her things, I wanted to impress her with the world.
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Stories, Poetry & Flash Fiction
Short
The Trip to
NOWHERE by Marlon Hayes
There’ s nothing like a weekend trip to spark up the romance. A nice three day lovefest to restart our engines. My girlfriend Pilar wasn’ t as excited as me, but you can’ t predict everyone’ s ignition point. We needed a break. I knew it, but she refused to acknowledge our days of wine and roses were numbered.
My car was freshly washed, the interior rubbed down with whatever chemicals those fellas at the car wash used. Peach may have been the predominant ingredient, conjuring images of Georgia, and women with cut off blue jean shorts. I was a bit sour we weren’ t going as far as Georgia, but it was okay. Our scheduled trip was to the wine country of southwestern Michigan, where we had a room booked at a bed and breakfast. The room was pricey, but I was striving to make this weekend memorable.
The simple things I required for a road trip stayed in my car at all times. Sunflower seeds( they never get stale!), a Rand-McNally road map, and a small cooler, able to hold 18 beers if they were loaded right. My car was fully gassed, ready to roll, but Pilar hadn’ t come outside yet. I sat in the driver’ s seat, tapping my fingers against the wheel. I was hyped to hit the road, and I refused to let her dampen my spirits.
I hoped she had not forgotten to pack anything. On every road trip, she always left something, a toothbrush, deodorant, something. Whatever small thing she forgot always became a bone of contention for her to blame me for because I rushed her, or had upset her, making it always my fault. Pilar was adamant about everything always being my fault. If it was raining outside, somehow I was to blame. Slight exaggeration, but not by much.
Pilar strode towards the car, looking amazing in a yellow sundress. For a brief moment, I remembered the first time I’ d seen her. I had tripped over myself in an effort to introduce myself. Somehow this beautiful woman had let me into her life. I’ d pg 16 been grateful then, but now I realized I’ d been the prize in this relationship. Every man before me had been typical, buying her things, paying her bills, and the only places she’ d been before me were Vegas and Miami. In our relatively short two years together, we’ d taken at least ten trips. I didn’ t want to buy her things, I wanted to impress her with the world.
“ It’ s about time you showed up, I had almost changed my mind about going,” she said, sliding into the passenger side seat.“ Are you going to put my bags in, or not? There wasn’ t a kiss, a morning greeting, or even a smile acknowledging my presence. I stepped out of the car and walked around to her side. Pilar had three bags, and I couldn’ t understand why, because we’ d only be away for a couple of days. After placing the bags in the trunk, I made a wager with myself she still had forgotten something.
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