From the outside the trailer was nothing impressive and everything you’d expect from a shanty in the local white trash slums. Inside, however, the place had been redone, cleaned up and decorated to suit the 27 years young woman who called the place her own, sharing it with her newborn daughter.
“I miss him so much,” she blurted out to her visitor, a similarly young guy who’d stopped by for the first time since he’d heard about the birth of her daughter, just to visit and bring some last minute presents, a stuffed “animal” in the shape of a globe with arms and eyes, and a bottle of creme liqueur. Neither present were appreciated beyond the thought and so was the point of their bequist.
The girl and her baby were alone, having lost their boyfriend/father to a car accident nearly a year ago. “I’ve lost everything. Everyone here has been able to move on, for them they’ve only lost a friend or a son. But I can’t move on. I’ve lost my entire life and now I’m here, alone.”
The baby stirred from its afternoon nap and the girl looked down on her and smiled. The sounds coming from the littler of the two girls reminded the visitor of a candle in a cave, barely flickering and only often enough to remind you that the soft glow of its flame is all the light between now and an utterly dark and inescapable cave.
The three sat and two of them, at least, talked and he tried to offer comfort for the sake of offering. She mostly looked down at the child and did what she could to laugh at his jokes. He stayed for another hour or two and tried to convince her that she was important to him, to alot of people. But after he’d put his shoes and coat on and the busted screen door leading him back out into his own life slammed shut all that was left was a little candle and someone to stare at it.
Up Next: A Maple Tree, Chapter 10