Debris

Jared Guest kept a cigarette behind his right ear; it blended into his greasy, blond hair, ready to be lit upon stepping outside.  They carried the aroma of stale smoke in their hair and on their breath.  Bits of loose tobacco disappeared into crevices at the bottom of bag-lady bags and pockets of jeans.  Guys carried matches taken from Quiktrip, even though for every lost Bic lighter a replacement could be found on the studio’s cold cement floor, or in between wooden planks that composed the deck outside the building.  Some would just wander around holding a cigarette between loose lips, allowing it to lightly bounce with each step as they searched for someone with a light.

            They carried sketchbooks.  Blake scribbled in a small Moleskin, whose unruly, crinkled pages were bound with an elastic band.  It bulged out of his back pocket like the wallet of a wealthy man headed for the strip club.  He carried a pipe and sack of weed.  During the time he wore a cast on a broken arm he was arrested for vandalizing the brick façade of an abandoned building and thrown into the back of a paddy wagon.  He managed to stuff his pipe and pot up into his cast.  In his communal cell he used his long, yellow fingernails to carve drawings into Styrofoam cups and was released the next day free of charges.

            Most of the girls kept their sketchbooks in large, canvas bags that hung just below their asses from long straps resting across their chests.  The bags swung as they walked, ricocheting off the girls’ thighs.  Cary Howard carried an authentic leather purse, which was a great deal smaller than the other canvas sacs and featured Betty Boop in a magenta rhinestone bikini on the front.  She tried to fit too much in it, and it was always overflowing like the large breasts she tried to fit into strapless halter tops.  They only size-appropriate items she carried in her purse were miniature Ziploc bags of cocaine that had little Superman “S”s on them.  She hid the square inch bags in a built-in pocket she’d made herself.  She carried a plastic Hello Kitty case that made a sharp click every time she opened or shut it behind the walls of a bathroom stall.  Inside the pink box she kept an array of short straws that had been but at an angle at one end and whose interiors were caked with powdery residue.

            Sammie always had deodorant and a toothbrush buried under books and stray papers.  Every morning, a half an hour into class, she’d pull a stick of deodorant out of her bag and reach inside her shirt to apply it.  They were unkempt.  The cup holder in Sammie’s junky Toyota was sticky like a child’s hand and invariably held a half-empty 16oz Miller Highlife.  In the Fall, the cans adopted a camouflage design in lieu of hunting season and could be found crushed and discarded on her dashboard well into February.

            Their disturbing demeanors were made accessible by their own hand.  Keeley Brown carried a Vitamin Water bottle containing white zinfandel Franzia.  Multiple times a day she dashed back to her dorm room to replenish her supply.  In the beginning she would fill the plastic bottle with cheap merlot, but as purple stains on her teeth and lips became a permanent fixture she opted for a blush.  From time to time, she carried EPT Pregnancy Tests in her bag.  Whenever she’d go over a month without a period, she’d excuse herself and take the test in the nearest bathroom.  Location didn’t matter to her; once she took a pregnancy test in an airplane bathroom while traveling home for Christmas Break.

            When they spoke, their tone was sophomoric and presumptuous.  Their awkward faces made people uncomfortable.  They had twisted noses and unnatural smiles.  Acne scars from adolescence looked like fresh bruises against their pale skin.  Tattoos of astrological signs and asinine quotes tainted their arms and backs. They carried dark bags under their eyes�"a product of speed.  A defeated gait bespoke of exhaustion.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the description and detail of this story. It is a good lead for a story. It is amazing what each of us hold on to in daily life. I like the many stories in the story. A interesting tale. A excellent story. Thank you.
Coyote