The Blue Vase

Short story

The blue vase. The window in the tippy-top corner of the room. Afternoon. The sun struck the vase in a slender beam changing the room as it did every day at around the same time in winter. It usually occurred around 4 o'clock. The beam never lasted long, soon hidden by the bastion of tall buildings that ensconced the building with the room, with the blue vase on the grey little table, with the tippy-top window that shed a few minutes of beautiful light into the dark room.

She was like the vase. She would glance over her shoulder at him and smile that smile, brilliant like that blue sunbeam, dazzling. He had been watching her for months now, waiting for her the same time every day, all winter long. He got out of bed, looking at the sunbeam. He got dressed as the beam got thinner and thinner. The beam died as he grabbed his wallet and keys, undid the three locks and yanked the door open, hearing the squeal of non-fitting door beams. He glanced up and down the hallway as he jammed the door shut and walked quickly down the stairs, to the main door of the apartment. He slowed as he reached it, lingering over the mailboxes, checking to see if anything had come. Nothing.

He paused a moment longer. A door opened in the hallway. He hastily went outside, turning and heading down towards the corner store. He avoided looking at anyone, focusing on the ground, noticing the gray piece of gum that he narrowly avoided. He turned the corner, passing the Marlboro Lights sign and got thwacked by a 9 year-old running with candy in his mouth out the door.

He headed to the hummus section, and got his daily ration of bagels and hummus. Sesame bagels, roasted garlic hummus. He paid, ignoring the woman behind the counter. She ignored him equally. With his small paper bag, he returned from whence he came, slowing down as he mounted the steps to the main door of the apartment building, looking.

She wasn't there. He sighed, a breath of relief. The door opened behind him.

“Hiya!” He stiffened and whirled around.

It was her.

“H-hello.” Curse the stutter!

“Isn't it a beautiful day today? Here's your mail, looks like more junk, huh? Can't say I'm upset, without junk mail, I'd be out of a job!” She laughed while handing him his bills and junk mail. He laughed. It was strangled and gurgly. She laughed harder.

“You get out work early, huh? Lucky you! I'm just finishing up myself, gotta love these 9 to 5er's, they give you something to live for.” He looked at her helplessly as she began opening mailboxes and quickly sorting the mail.

“I don't, uh, work 9 to 5ers.” He replied slowly, his tongue thick against his pallet.

“No, really?” She laughed, “No s**t, I could tell that from your hair.” Her laugh wasn't mean, he began to feel a little bolder. “So what do you do? Gotta pay rent somehow.” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

“I, uh, work nights. Tech.”

“ Cool, so are you a hacker?”

He really laughed this time. “No, no way.”

“Cool,” she replied, pushing the last of the mail into the boxes and shouldering her pack. He didn't think, couldn't think, just act.

“Hey, um, what are you doing after work? I know this comedy club downtown we could go to.”

Her eyes brightened. “Comedy? I love comedy, yeah, what time, Mr. Eric Walken?”

“Uh, is 6 ok?”

“Sounds great, I'll just be out here on the doorstep then!” She smiled over her shoulder as she opened the door and jumped lightly down the stairs.

The sunbeam vanished, but he knew it would come back again. Hopefully his regular heartbeat would too.