CaligraphyKelly Canavan Vargas also participated in the Year in Review series. Check out her blog Ravenous River Horses.
by Kelly Canavan Vargas
The worn, leather book strap had been tightened around Isaac's upper arm. He stretched out his left hand and flexed. Stretched and flexed. Stretched and grabbed the catalog in front of him. Carefully, he peeled off the address label. Holding it close to his face he examined the label. It was parchment thin and the sun shone through it. His name and address were hand-written in a long and elegant mix of cursive and printing. As he began to move the label away from his face, he paused when he noticed the faint scent of flowers.
"Is this her perfume?" he wondered aloud. His voice echoing in the empty loft. Slowly getting up, he paced across the wood floors; Planks creaking under his weight, pigeons rustling on the ledge.
"Is this her lotion? The scent of her skin?" He paused his incessant pacing. "Could this be her actual skin?"
"She knew this would help me grow!" he yelled, holding the catalog up with his left hand. Pigeons scattered.
The small "r" at the end of his name spoke to him. Schumacher. It curved upward slightly at the end. It was so hopeful. Isaac paced as he studied it. As he started worrying that the low dip of the "r" would never end, it gently glided up, up, up. It was a roller coaster of a letter. It was manic. He plunged the needle in his arm. The upwards motion of the letter swirled in Isaac's head. In one ear and out the other. Jostled his hair. Entered his bowels and came warmly out of his mouth like vomit. It was vomit.