Back to the Sixth Sense Cards! I like that these spark some ideas, but they don't give me enough for a full story on their own, and using them as they are intended (writing for three minutes for each card) isn't long enough to do an entire story. They still give me enough to start things, though, so on that front they get the job done.
Card 1 - a half-eaten box of Fig Newtons
Card 2 - the smell of the t-shirt from a B-52’s concert
Card 3 - the feel of spandex
The doorbell rang, startling Isabel out of the light doze she’d fallen into. She sat up on the couch, catching her phone before it slid off her chest, and brushed the Fig Newton crumbs off her shirt as she stood up. The rest of the box stood on her coffee table, next to a couple of empty cans of diet soda, and she wrinkled her nose at the combination. She hadn’t intended to stay on the couch for as long as she had when she got home from work, but scrolling and the joy of not having to do anything or be anywhere had been too strong of a siren song to ignore.
The doorbell rang again, and Isabel straightened her work skirt out and brushed her curly blonde hair away from her face as she walked to the door. She hadn’t even changed from work, so at least she only looked a little rumpled, but not fully in her battered pajama pants and the B-52s concert tee she usually wore to bed. No matter how many times she washed the shirt, the smell of the arena and a little bit of pot smoke still clung to the fabric, and something about that combination put her in mind for bedtime. After one last check for crumbs, she looked out her peephole to see who was actually ringing her doorbell, and sighed.
Faith was posted up next to the door, casually scrolling on her phone and looking up at the door every few seconds to see if Isabel had opened it yet. She was coming straight from the gym, judging by the outfit and the giant gym bag on her shoulder. Isabel opened the door wide enough to let her in. “Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, sis. To what do I owe the honor?”
Faith came in and closed the door behind her, locking and chaining it before putting her head against the door and drawing out a long sigh. Isabel was instantly on alert. Faith, her baby sister, was the most confident woman she’d ever known, and she’d never seen her in such a state. She looked scared, and like she might cry any second. “Faith? What’s going on? Do you need help?” She put her hand on Faith’s shoulder tentatively, the feel of her sister’s jacket slippery under her hand.
As soon as she touched her shoulder, Faith turned and fell into Isabel’s arms. She was a little shorter than Isabel, and her head fit on her big sister’s shoulder, where she rested it as she sobbed incoherently. Isabel, completely at sea, just kept patting her back and waiting for her to say what was going on, but not knowing how to get her to say what was wrong. It was completely reversed from how things usually were - Faith was the bedrock of the sisters, and Isabel was known to be a little “emotional” and needing attention. Now that things were the other way around, Isabel was trying desperately to figure out how to do what Faith managed to do so easily. “Come on, kid, sit down,” she said softly, pulling Faith toward the big armchair and pulling her gym bag off her shoulder. “You want some water?”
Faith allowed herself to be directed to the chair and flopped into it, dropping the bag on the floor next to her. “Yes, please, with ice?” she said meekly, and Isabel smiled. Faith had always had very strong feelings about how the best drinking water was ice cold, and it was good to see that some of her normal self was still there, under all the tears.
When she came back, Faith was cross-legged in the armchair, staring at her phone and chewing on her thumbnail. Isabel handed her the water and sat on the couch next to her, waiting. One thing that she did know about her younger sister was that Faith didn’t do well when it came to silence, and so it usually just took waiting her out to get her to talk. Isabel picked up her own phone and checked for messages, then deliberately put it on the coffee table screen face down. She sat back and watched, and waited.
Faith hadn’t even finished the glass of water before she started to talk. “It’s Max,” she said in a burst. “I came home from my spin class like usual, right? Only it was a little earlier than usual, but normally I stop to get a smoothie from the place next to the gym, but today it’s closed - something about a private function, I don’t know, who hosts a private function at a smoothie bar, I mean, seriously - anyway, I ended up getting home early, and that’s when I saw that there were people at the apartment.” She dropped the phone into her lap and twisted the glass in her hands, talking to the water rather than to her sister. “It looked like there was a moving truck parked by the main entrance, so I was thinking someone was moving out, because there aren’t any open units right now, and it turns out I was right, but the person moving out was Max.” She looked up and met Isabel’s gaze, her blue eyes filled with tears again. “He had gotten a bunch of his friends - our friends - together to help him move his stuff out while I was gone. When I went up to the apartment and saw that they had boxed things and were carrying them off, no one would look at me, but Angel, his sister, pointed me in his direction before she kept carrying things out to the truck. He was just standing next to the bed, packing a suitcase with his clothes, and didn’t even look up when he saw me come in.”
Isabel felt her jaw drop and fought the urge to swear. Max had been with Faith for four years by this point, and though Isabel hadn’t been his biggest fan, she never thought he would just up and move out like this. “Did he say anything to you?” she asked as gently as she could.
“’Oh, you’re home early. Guess I can give you this,’ and then he hands me a letter, a freaking letter,” Faith said, her tears turning to rage. She put the water on the coffee table and reached into her gym bag, rummaging for a few seconds before pulling out a sealed envelope. “I can’t even bring myself to read what he wrote.” She thrust it into Isabel’s hands. “You can if you want, and tell me if it’s worth reading or not.”
Isabel took the edge of the envelope and put it on the coffee table, carefully not touching it too much. “You know, I think that’s a ‘tomorrow’ kind of decision,” she said, picking up her phone. “The only decisions we need to be making right now are a - what kind of food are we drowning your sorrows in, and b - what movie and/or TV show are we binging while we stuff our faces?” She opened a food delivery app and handed the phone over to her sister. “My treat.”
Faith sniffled, then took Isabel’s phone in both hands and started to search. “I forget what all you have available around her. Oooh, I haven’t had Thai in ages! Max hated Thai - said it was too spicy for him.” She grinned. “Time for some five-start green curry, I think!”
Isabel laughed. “Absolutely. We’ll deal with tomorrow then. For now, food and streaming!” She picked up her remote and turned on her TV, preparing to provide as much comfort for her sister as modern technology would allow her to. Tomorrow they could start digging into the whys and wherefores of the breakup. For today, it was enough to be together with good food and mindless media. Isabel was good at that part.
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