#;mari

mari could tie all these pesky awful thoughts in a hanukkah christmas paper. she loved him. it was worth it, but the tears were stinging at the corners of her eyes, and she was grateful that she'd made it through the door of her tiny shoebox apartment before she broke down, dropping to her knees and her coat in the doorway. the photographers had been cruel with their flashibulbs, poking at the open wound of her father’s death. the last thing she expected was to find him in a holiday apron. the clamor of the wooden spoon against the pot.

on the train, marigold glances down at the ring on her finger. a modest diamond in a floral setting, and the subtle glint of it. she wondered if the strangers on the subway could sense her beaming brim. she’d had survived it. the three hundred and seventy-two days without him, and they, admittedly, had been the hardest of her life. moving to a new a new city and into the shoebox apartment that they’d share, starting her first year at juilliard, getting petrichor the kitten, all of it had been without him. but no more. her love. her fiance. he was coming home. she was just off work, carrying her ukulele case by her side and tapping it to her hip. so many people, men, women, children were just going about their days as if it were ordinary. usual. this was not just any other day. he was coming home. she got off the subway at j.f.k. and practically bounced up the stairs, waiting at arrivals with a gleam in her eye and eager anticipation.

‘glitter is magic.’ marigold grins, tapping her pen to the glass in a metallic click, clink, clack.

the swell of the music. the feelings expressed, and the ease of slipping into a different world all kept marigold putting pen to paper. this was gratification in its truest form. she had dedicated the award to all children who had barriers to overcome, who had things to fight for, and who had tides to change. this alone meant the world to her. she gave them something to aspire to, and that was her biggest accomplishment. all of her hard work worthwhile. distracted by the flood of text messages, she carried the small golden statue close to her chest, ramming into a stranger without the slightest clue.

marigold: but he's pushing me away. how do i make him stop?

marigold struggles to carry the turkey that is nearly a mammoth in size. she has her ukulele case in one hand while trying to balance in peep toe heels. this doesn’t seem to be going well for her.