TUESDAY, MAY 12, 2020
CUSTOM MADE FOR: @vconrxd
LOCATION: LITTLE BIRD BOOKS
Half of her soul resides outside her body. This she knows.
The story of Avery and Ronnie is a book bound with thread made of steel — when you know, you know, and ever since their first handful of meetings, Avery’s known that the world can end in droplets of fire from the heavens or disappear in a tidal wave or simply fade from existence altogether, and the constant of Ronnie will always remain the same. It’s like a child’s prayer that she wraps her arms around at night when things are falling to shit, the sun’s rays kissing her skin in a reminder that it’s a nice day when she sits in the middle of the water and revels in the idyllic calm of serendipity. Avery can count on Ronnie. It’s a luxury she’s not used to having reciprocated.
Writing’s kept her busy, and when she resurfaces, Ronnie’s face pops up in her brain the same way a stray text message or email might grace the upper corners of her computer in notification. She’s the first person Avery thinks of when she thinks of just because company, the idea striking while she’s monotonously brushing her teeth in the shower. The morning is already disappearing underneath her feet, but there’s still enough to make the most of it. So, she pulls herself together and swings by Coffee and Cookie on her drive, picking up the usual for the two of them. She drives with the windows down into Avalon, her fingers idly drumming against the edges of the steering wheel the entire ride up to the bookstore.
She climbs out of the car, one hand hosting the goods on the pads of her fingers and the other ready to service as the safety net. Shuffling through the lot, her back meets the door to coax it open and with the rush of cool air from indoors, the sense of home. “Look alive, Ronald,” she teases, the small bell that lingers over the door playing the harmonious notes of a relatively chaotic arrival. “I come bearing gifts.” Avery plants the drink tray onto the counter, brown crumpled bag precariously balanced in the empty spaces losing the battle to gravity and leaning against the pillar of a coffee cup. She grins, two rows of white teeth sparkling as her elbow digs onto the surface and her chin buries into the heel of her palm. “You been busy today?”
