All Your Fates (Currently editing/updating)

Chapter 10: The Invisible Collar (Part Two) ~ Carrie Cutforth

Music Tracklist:

Get Lucky ~ Daft Punk cover by Daughter

DAVID’S POV

I can’t believe that cheeseball line worked on an Emma! One in the flesh right before me – and my flesh. Finally, here was my chance. For our fleshes to touch…each other’s flesh parts. (I should probably stop using the word flesh). And this time, no one would get hurt…most of all Emma…

So far she seemed into me…she was wandering off with me like I was the fucking pied piper of Hamelin at least. Who knew, maybe in this world Earth girls are easy?

I had no idea where I was taking her. I could only hope the streets were the same as in my world. Perhaps my apartment…

I shut my eyes as my gut twisted up into knots. Something felt off…wrong somehow. Something was nagging me in the back of my mind. Like I had forgotten an item off my grocery list. A loaf of bread, a carton of milk…how does the rest go? And a stick of butter!

But no, not butter…something…else…but-ter, butttterrr, but her…butt her…

No, not something else…someone else.  But if not Emma then…who?

I gave a sideways glance to the girl walking alongside of me. Hot damn she was hawt. Just as hawt as Emma, my Emma, had always been. Her hair was a bit more buttery, more pulled back tightly at the sides, which made her eyes seemed a wee bit stretched, squinty, now that I could see them up close with the sunglasses on the top of her head

Funny that.

I imagined the tightness of the tail? what do women call these things – was bound to give her headache. 

But still…as pleased as I should be…with her walking alongside on these strange but familiar streets of LA, I felt…something was missing…like I was with the wrong person. Only: every time I tried to think of the person I was “supposed” to be with, my mind would flood with static again.

This Emma kept walking close to me, bumping shoulders in that way…that way…someone else had so long ago…who was that?

“Just so you know…It’s not every day I wander off with strange men who have just picked me up,” this Emma said by my side.

I ran my hand through my hair, “Well…it’s not often I’ve picked up strange women.”  (“like evah,” I didn’t want to say out loud). I don’t even know how it happened. All I said was: “Let’s get out of here,” and then suddenly we were wondering off together, bumping hips and shoulders together and it began to dawn on me that this Emma put a whole different spin on my invitation to find some place quiet to “talk”.

And now I had to find a way to find a quiet place: ”to talk”…

Sure….

We crossed a few more streets and I realized I was about to take her in circles, and really was hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Soooooo,” I started.

“Soooooo,” she replied.

“You don’t sound Swedish,” I asked, and then realized my mistake too late.

“Why would I be Swedish,” she laughed, “I know I’m blonde but is it that easy to tell?”

“I’ve known a few Swedes in my time,” I covered.

“My mom moved us here when we were kids. She’s American. I’ve never met my dad,” she said and I felt sad for her. She didn’t seem sad though.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said looking around for my apartment but I felt out of place. Which I was in the grand scheme of things.

“Why should you be sorry,” she said with a shrug, “Who wants to grow up in Sweden anyway?”