A Card for the Miles

A coffee shop.  A warm fire.  A picture window front.  Milk steamer sounds spiked with laughter.  Chairs scraping across the torn wood floor.  Papers crinkling and laptop keys tinkling.

Through the sights and sounds I see the glint of glitter.  A carousel of cards turns slowly as a patron peruses its holdings.  How beautiful most of them are.  Each has a bit of gleam to it - a small rhinestone here, a dash of colorful sparkle there.  One in particular catches my eye and before I know it I'm on my feet and the card is in my hand.  So is my credit card and the beautiful card with the beautiful woman is mine!  Her eyes are adorned with red rhinestone eyeshadow and ruby glitter glows across her dress.  Raven-colored hair sits perfectly on her head and she expertly sets her lipsticked lips in a fashionable smile.  I know I will do something beautiful with this card.

I have a good friend who lives in a cold place.  She and I used to do everything together.  We used to run wild and crazy and meet wild and crazy men in bars and take home phone numbers and compare how many we got in a night.  We used to talk every day or at every other day at least and use each other as excuses when our parents asked where we had been the night before.  But we grew up.  We got jobs and responsibilities.  We got married and I had children.  We moved thousands of miles apart and life threw even more emotional miles between us.

As I hold this card I don't hold any hope that is has healing power.  I don't believe that it will suddenly bring back the closeness that was or the life that pre-existed adulthood.  But I will use it to reach out.  I will use it because I am a writer and it is a beautiful thing.