superhuman

o2.

o2.

xxx

"hurry, Aurdrey! We haven't got all day."

Halle continued to plague her child as he tried as best he could to scrawl the word yardsale on an old, pink poster. If her relentless shouting hadn't been enough, the neighborhood would surely be lured by the brilliant affiche, which could possibly even be spotted from space.

"I'm moving as fast as I can, mom," he murmured.

Axiomatically Audrey hadn't really fancied seeing his mother this way; all domineering and frustrated, and Halle honestly hated the affect her tyranny had on him but it was the only way things would get done.

Halle ran her fingers through her wayward hair, sighing and kneeling next to her son, who'd evaded her penitent hand by shrugging his tiny shoulders.

"I know you are, baby," she almost whispered. "I'm just a little excited is all. This'll be good for us. I mean, we could use the extra money, huh?" She half-nudged Audrey's elbow and he failed miserably in stifling his thin smile. "Here. Let me help." With long, thin fingers did Halle slide the deep black marker from Audrey's hand and begin to expertly limn two appealing daisies; one embellishing the top corner, and the other opposite at the bottom. She then dropped the utensil and held up the sheet at arm's length, studying it, her head cocked to one side and her lip missing beneath a row of sparkling white teeth. "I think it looks pretty good, dont you?" She looked up at me, expecting. I nodded meekly, my eyes watching the knot of my fingers and a tightness forming about my throat. I could hardly breathe but still managed to mumble, "yes." She eyed me momentarily, studying me, her kissable lips pressed into a line. Her glare still appeared the same as when she'd first spotted me convulsing like a coward in the corner of her cellar, but a twinge of solace glinted almost in her eyes now. She feels bad for me. The dreadfully awkward silence I'd hoped to avoid had this truly happened hung over us like the clouds and I squirmed uncomfortably. I felt defeated, victim to their scutiny. God, I wish I knew what they were thinking.

At long last, Halle dropped her hard gaze on me and glanced for a quick second at Audrey. "Alright!" she sprouted, clasping her hands together. "Lets get this sign up. Tony, could you help me carry a few more things out?" Her inquiry toward me was a lot less enthused, my faux title foreign to her lips, her voice a staggering whisper and her eyes downcast slightly. Is she afraid of me? My lips, defying me, twitched into a ghost of a smile as I nodded.

x

"How long have you been here?" Halle glanced up at me with shimmery, golden eyes. Her voice was as soft as I presumed her rich, bronze skin to be.

"Not very long," I whispered.

She handed me a box leaking with old antique jewels. "Why're you giving these away?" I asked quietly. Halle shook her head and grimaced as if the twinkling gems, notably behind the times but still too precious to lose left a bitter taste in her mouth. "They're like a thousand years old. They've been here for years and have done nothing but collect dust," she mused. I gaped her internally, was she seriously just giving these brilliant stones away? "So put them to use." The words left my lips a bit more fervently than I'd intended them to. She only looked at me. "I'm sorry." I truly was.

I hauled the awefully light box and a few others out to front yard. The yard was perfectly manicured; as I'd presumed it to be, emerald and glistening with sparkling droplets of water. The garden was now a remarkable trove of iridescent flowers, no longer the dull-yet-charming ruby-pink I'd last seen. I caught myself beholding its serenity.