You Can’t Go Home Again

Either Kenny or Maud had already brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Sam grabbed a mug off the lattice of wooden knobs protruding from the wall above the sink. She filled it to nearly overflowing with the essential onyx liquid. She snatched a stroopwafel from the package and headed for the sofa beckoning her to the other end of the room. She set her cup on the end table and fell into it the over-sized cushions. 

Prior to embarking on her trip, she arranged for an international phone plan which afforded her only 30 minutes of talk time each day. She had to call Kendra, apparently, but she would need to throttle Kendra’s desire to chat for hours as they had done on so many occasions in the window seat of their apartment. 

Sam shifted her focus to the bustle of everyday life just beyond floor-to-ceiling window that bookended the massive space. In her peripheral vision, she monitored steam escaping the small opening at the far edge of her mug she had failed to eclipse with the gooey caramel cookie. Smokey tendrils danced in the autumn sun flooding the room. Suddenly, the realization of fleeting nirvana came to her. This city, these people, this moment—bliss. She savored it gratefully. She never wanted to go home.  

She swung her legs up onto the sofa. The path from her heels to her ass was a caret or lazy capital V, depending on the vantage point. She leaned forward resting an elbow on the broad arm of the sofa. She gazed out the window for a beat. As she reached for her coffee, a resigned frown formed on her face at the thought of Kendra crashing through her utopian moment. 

Sam lifted the nearly melted stroopwafel and took a bite. A stubborn gossamer strand of caramel refused to let go as she pulled it away from her mouth. When it finally broke loose, it landed on her chin, neck, and the drawstring of her hoodie. She quickly twirled it onto her index finger and sucked it off.


Excerpt from All or Nothing Girl, the forthcoming novella from Blake Charles Donley

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