The Corner of Peck and Pine

I visited an establishment and realized that the cross streets are Peck and Pine. This came into my head immediately.

The Corner of Peck and Pine

 

            I tried to keep my mind focused on the blue salt I could sprinkle on my mashed potatoes. If I mixed it in, my potatoes would turn blue and that was always a great distraction. Most days, this would have been enough to keep my mind from wandering back to unfortunate past events, but not today. As I stood on the corner of Peck Street and Pine Street, I fiddled with my hair and actively stopped my brain from thinking about you.

            I heard voices all around me, angry voices arguing about the same issue they started on five days ago. I crinkled my hair between my fingers and fought them out of my brain, but that left room for you to crawl back in, sneakily. You think you’re so slick, but you’re not. I can stop thinking about you any other time of day, just not when I’m standing on the corner of Peck and Pine.

            We went inside, we ate, and I was ignored. I’m used to this treatment; it’s nothing to me at this point. You all wonder why I like to talk so much, but if you saw them, you’d understand. I spend most of my time in silence, listening to the pathetic woes of others. You didn’t know that did you? Or maybe you did. Maybe you were standing on the corner of Peck and Pine that day and saw me stabbing my food moodily, but you didn’t care.

            I excused myself between dinner and desert to have a cigarette. The wind had picked up and it was unsettlingly cold for June. I decided to sit on the curb rather than the steps. I sat on the curb at the corner of Peck and Pine and thought about what you would say to me if you could see me. Why do I even need you around if I can anticipate your every word? I know you too well, there’s no excitement with you anymore. The most spontaneous thing you ever did was ignore me, and even that has become predictable behavior.

            I took a long drag on that tiny black stick and licked my lips, the ones you stared at so many times, the ones that formed words of caution that you’d never taken to heart. The very same lips that could say everything in the world except what I wanted to say, what I needed you to understand. But you never could understand, or you wouldn’t. I still don’t know which one it was, other than you never really made much of an effort as far as I could see. As I sat on the corner of Peck and Pine, I understood this for the first time.

            I stamped out that cigarette with my high heeled black shoe. I grinded the heel into the cement sidewalk on the corner of Peck and Pine, and understood myself more than I ever had before. I am the corner of Peck and Pine. I rip you apart, down to your very foundation to point out all your flaws. I’m the first to jump to your defense, but I am what starts the demolition. I Peck at you endlessly until no one can see a logical reason in knowing or liking you. I’ve prevented so many potential relationships you could have had, but you would never know that. You would never know how much I hated you, how many things about you I found disgusting and unfortunate. My skin still creeps when I think of you, and I mentally push you away again; away from the corner of Peck and Pine.

            They motioned for me to come back inside, but didn’t want to. I didn’t want to rejoin them with you on my mind, so I brought up the other half, even though I knew I’d feel worse after. I could think you all the way through and still never come to a conclusion. I hate you, but I Pine for you. I can’t help myself from sitting on the corner of Peck and Pine and wishing you were standing somewhere, seeing me look like this. My hair blowing in the wind, my body clean and smelling like soap, my eyes too bright for my face. I can’t help but think you would love me like this, if you ever bothered to look. I Pine for you because you won’t look. You knowingly refuse me the one thing you know I want from you, and you do it on purpose. You sit there and tell me you care, but show me that you don’t. They say actions speak louder than words, but they’re the same to me and I don’t know which to believe. As I sit on the corner of Peck and Pine I am confused.

            I left that day, and I never went back to the corner of Peck and Pine. I still think of that day often, the day I realized I have no room for you in my life. I can never do anything besides Peck and Pine when it comes to you, and that’s not what you need. You need something and I wanted it to be me, but I can’t be the corner of Peck and Pine. I’ve been there and I knew immediately upon leaving that I had stayed too long.

Author's Note

I don't smoke... lol

Reviews

[blackandivorykeys]

Hm... it has potential. Lots of it. It just needs a few nudges towards the right direction.

Your narrative style sounds more like a reflection of your day, which it may as well be if you were said main character. Still, if your style is the one of talking towards the audience, perhaps using a different tone would help.

For instance, "I hated Pine, yet...".

I'm not sure if you can comprehend what I am trying to say... but hopefully you'll be able to take these words into consideration.

As well, the opening, while the style is a good hook, can be slightly confusing to readers. Perhaps rewording the sentence.

Overall though, it was an enjoyable short read. I loved the ending. =)