I woke up, got out of bed, and was dead set on making some coffee. It had been a long sleep for both of us. As I got out of bed, my narrowed and blurred eyes couldn’t believe the time displayed on the alarm clock. Because I had slept well into the late afternoon, I decided that it was going to be a lazy Sunday afternoon before going to work tomorrow.
I hated my job. I’d always wanted to make a living as an artist. A painter. That’s my true passion, but due to real life and all the responsibilities that came with it, my passion had been relegated to a hobby. The walls of my home were covered in half-painted works. I’d been told my stuff was too poppy. I didn’t know a painting could give people the same feeling that reality TV did. But I was damn proud of my work.
Paris came into the kitchen, looking as groggy as me. I gave her a cup of coffee. She sat cross-legged in the middle of my living room floor and gleefully sipped from the cup.
I looked at Paris and was jealous that she remained beautiful despite not showering and waking up with a face full of makeup after eight hours of restless sleep. Not me though. When I woke up, I looked like a drunk gargoyle.
“I never asked you about last night,” I said to Paris. “How do you go about making a living?”
Paris laughed. It was very similar to the laugh she gave me before she rolled over and went to sleep. I decided to press the question. It was as if she relished in her own mysteriousness. I wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. “Do you have a job?” I asked again.
“The answer to that question is no,” Paris said.
“So, let me get this straight. You have the power to do a spell that makes a man act and wet himself like a dog, and you’ve decided not to parlay that into some money-making venture?”
“I survive by the earth. The earth tells me I’m okay with my decisions when I happen to run into a person as wonderful as you.”
Wow, that was about the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. “You barely know me,” I said, embarrassed. “You also told me you haven’t done anything like this in years.”
“I haven’t,” Paris said. “But you’re wrong about one thing. We once knew each other. It was in a different life. Two people don’t hit it off as well as we do, unless something cosmic is going on. There was no reason for me to be at Knott’s Berry Farm yesterday. But a kid gave me an adult ticket that someone in his family wasn’t using. He just offered me the ticket in an Albertson’s grocery store. Some people might tell the kid, ‘No, it’s okay. Thank you, anyway.’ Not me. This child offered me this ticket to a place I hadn’t gone to in twenty years. I saw it as a sign that Mother Earth was leading me to someone. The earth took care of me. The second that I don’t have a place to live or to have to beg for food, I’ll know then I’m off my destiny’s path.”
“It’s so weird,” I said, looking in Paris’ direction. “You say things that I have only felt, but couldn’t articulate. I’ve been a prisoner of my own pain for years. But hearing you tonight reminded me of the woman I used to be. The lady I always wanted to become! Somewhere, I got off destiny’s path. I’ve been living on automatic for years. And I didn’t realize how much I was dying inside, until last night at the coven camp.”
I looked at Paris and I had a vulnerability that I only gave to men.
Paris smiled at me and said, “I think this is what they call fast friends.”
Paris and I both ate a bowl of Fruit Loops. Since it was so late in the afternoon, the sugary, colorful puff rings served as breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Right after we each downed our third bowl, we got ready to head on over to her special little bookstore she had promised to take me to. Well, that’s if you called slipping into a pair of sweats, t-shirts, and putting one’s hair into a bun getting ready.