by Roxane Gay
As the fireworks start, Brett pats his legs and I slip over and onto his lap. The air thickens with smoke as the sky fills with bursts of white and purple, red and green. My husband nuzzles my neck with his damp lips. He is drunk. I can smell it on him. He starts whispering to me. His hand slides around my waist and beneath the hem of my skirt. I take hold of his wrist and laugh. Everything is illuminated. If anyone is watching, we look happy.
When it is over, and the sky is black gray, I spill Brett into the car with. As we drive home, he rests his head on my shoulder, tucks his left hand between my thighs. He sings a Sugarland song, slurring, All I want to do ooo ooo ooo ooo.
At home, he stumbles into the bedroom and falls onto our bed face first. When I sit next to him, running my fingers through his hair, he jumps up, pushes me onto my back. I laugh and run my hands down his chest. If anyone is watching, we look happy.
We make love and I give him a show and say filthy things the way he likes. He tells me how much he fucking loves me, passes out. I lay awake, hot and damp, staring at the ceiling, one arm over my head, the other across the flat of my belly. I can still smell the fireworks on our skin. I think about the deceptive properties of appearance.
I really like the way this story stands on its own terms -- that there's no push to get to the implied unhappiness. It lives in a place that's unusual in fiction, and yet common in life.
Gorgeous details, perfect phrasing. I loved "The sky is tenuously holding itself between day and night," for example.
the everything is illuminated line makes me think of that novel. the movie...eh, not so much, but a good book.
i like this story, especially the line in the penultimate paragraph about looking happy.
the repetition is really effective, as is the flattish tone. nice. lake michigan?
Thanks so much Erin, Cami, David and Joseph.
Joseph, Lake Superior!
This hurt me, so thanks.
"If anyone is watching, we look happy."
Win.
Thanks so much, Sheldon!
"I can still smell the fireworks on our skin" is my favorite line. Nice work.
Finally, I found this again [even searched in vain through your online CV], one of my all time favorites of yours, along with that one raved about in, I think, LitSnack...oh, it's so hard to keep up....
Truly fine work.
Thanks for your note, Barry. Glad you were able to find this again! If you are ever looking for something, feel free to e-mail me and ask.
Cheers,
Roxane
(sheesh Roxane, do you ever write anything that's just mediocre or "meh"?) As much as I love the line,"I can still smell the fireworks on our skin." Now whenever I see the word "fireworks" I'm barraged with Katy Perry images and melody. Forgive me.