SunsetA Story by Hipster DetectiveJust an insomniac's mind. Zita breathed in and out slowly in the cool San Francisco air. Trying to clear her head, she pulled a cigarette out of her breast pocket and lit it. She stood there staring at the tip for a moment, wondering what it would feel like to be inside an ember. She shook her head and inhaled the acrid smoke deeply. "Oh, your perfect pink lungs," her friend Frankie said mockingly and held her own cigarette out for a light. They stood there together and looked at the scarlet sunset bleeding into the harbor. "Hey, it's just like old times, you know?" Zita said and took another long drag on her cigarette. "You, me, the sun, the moon, the whole of California...." She decided she didn't want to smoke after all and ground her cigarette under her heel. She looked out at the harbor again. "It's the moon's fault, you know?" Frankie just looked at her. "See, the sun's slit her wrists in the tub." Zita said and pointed it out with a freezing hand. "And the moon's just standing over her, watching the blood, because he drove her to it. You dig?" Frankie laughed. "Zita, get a life. Or a hobby." Zita smiled bitterly and sighed. "Honey, this is my hobby." She laughed. "C'mon, let's go." "Where?" Frankie too put out her cigarette. "I know--let's go for a swim." "Where? The harbor? You're insane!" Something about Frankie told Zita that she was being completely serious. She groaned. "Oh, glory." Even so, she clasped her friend's hand; she wasn't one to pass up something like this. "Ready?" Frankie asked. "As I'll ever be." Zita replied, and they ran towards the harbor. "One," Frankie counted. A passing gull stared at them strangely. "Two," Zita could have sworn the sun winked at them. "Three!"
© 2010 Hipster DetectiveAuthor's Note
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