"all we need is our lives in a suitcase"
“Did you get the matches?” You whisper loudly in the dark, face full of fear as you stare at me. I grin and toss the light box in the air, catching it deftly in my palm. You grin and hold out your hand, impatiently wriggling your fingers at me. I hold them up, just out of your reach and laugh softly as you try to get them from me.
“Just give ‘em here ZIG!” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting. I toss them at you and sit down, spreading myself out lazily over the cold nightscape. After a few seconds and two burnt out matches, there’s a small fire glowing between us and you sit up, feeding it orange peel and bits of paper that you’ve collected. Finally you stop, content with the size of the fire, and lean back on your hands, watching me as the fire flickers, creating strange shadows across both our faces.
“Whadya wanna do after alla this, Ricky?” You ask pensively, still studying my face. I shrug and turn away, staring up at the bright stars as I think of an answer more then a little bit true.
“I guess maybe…go somewhere. Far, far away. And never return.” I laugh mockingly, wondering why I had said that, when I didn’t care where I went as long as you were near by. You don’t reply for a bit, only a soft “oh” punctuating the silence. Finally I look over to you and see you studying the far off landscape, eyes nearly glazed over as you think.
“What ‘bout you?” I ask quickly and you jump, having forgotten I was there and having forgotten, probably, what we were talking about.
“Uh…oh, um…you wanna know the truth Zig? I don’t care. All I need is my memories and maybe a small suitcase, and I’m out of here. It won’t be easy but it’ll be me, and that’s what I want. Somewhere I can settle down’d have to have…well, people important to me. You know?”
I nod in the darkness and we return to our silent brooding, content in our silence.