Chapter 2: Diamond Earrings

Vicki returned later that night, pounded on the glass door, which rattled and sounded like it would break. Becky had just finished her closing duties, and Carlos and Arlo had left. Against protocol and safety, Becky opened it for her. The cold air followed Vicki as she rushed to the table, and while tears dripped off her chin and snot covered her lips, she fell to her hands and knees to look under the table. Only dirt and discarded foodstuffs greeted her.

“What’d you lose? Hadn’t found anything tonight, but I could help you look,” Becky said as she relocked the door and walked slow and steady towards the table. Becky didn’t deal well with tears, we had that in common. I hated it when Vicki used to cry, and she cried often, and over silly, stupid things, like a tree the HOA planned to cut down, because she would miss the shade, not missed the shade, would miss.

“Earrings. I had them at dinner, wore them special, but I can’t find them. They’re gone, I can’t find them,” Vicki said as she gasped for breath. Her grandmother’s earrings. She lost them at least once a month and always found them in her purse or dresser, or once, in her ears, but every time the world ended and tears flowed.