They walked off dinner on a first date that was going nowhere in her mind and a wedding in his.
She had a dislike of awkward silences that bordered on a phobia.
“ I envy birds,” she said.
“Flight would be glorious,” he said, as though he was standing in a bike shop listening to a Wright brother.
She stopped in the middle of the street. Was he taking her to Springwells for ice cream? She hoped not.
“I didn’t say I envied flight.”
He stepped toward the curb, but she stayed in the crosswalk, confident that cars could steer around her.
“ I envy that they can perch on a wire without losing their balance, defecate wherever they please, and sing songs that everyone loves but no one truly understands.”
***
Photo by Juliana Martínez Atienza on Unsplash