She was (a Fictional Moment 3)

“Always in a hurry,” he muttered.

She sensed some level of mild irritation.   Just about felt it run down into his thighs, press onto his knees, and crash all the way into the length of his feet.   Suddenly, Sprocket gained traction:  first with Bloom’n…which, truth be told, moderately alarmed her but she fought to conceal both his effect on her as well as her alarm.  And second, he gained traction really against the earth, which is when Sprocket also gained massive stride.  In no time at all, he walked with her, at her side.  Level and even.  And perhaps even more — but she concealed that well and for his seemingly unaware part, Sprocket had even slowed down the pace a touch or two, she had noticed.  So she could keep up with him.  Bloom’n swallowed hard but couldn’t help but also notice that he had been nice enough not to point out the whole who was keeping up with who thing.

She smiled.  Bloom’n liked Sprocket.  Alot.  No matter what her issues were with independence.

“Yeah, well,” she said after a brief moment’s dance with her ever elusive independent streak, “there’s a whole big world out there.”

Bloom’n tilted the top of her head as if it were an arrow and pointed slightly ahead at some unseen horizon way, way, way past the explosion of high rises that coupled up onto each other all around them like a riot fest crowd crashing and nearly brawling down the street.  One after another after another after another after after after.  There was no end to the obstructions in front of them, the sea of life and humanity and fragility and being and masquerading right there in front of them, but somehow Bloom’n sought out an ever moving, out of reach horizon.

Most of the time she had a striking feeling that her “whole big world out there” was right in here with her all along.  She shuddered and couldn’t say why she did…so she never talked about it.  Besides, Sprocket never asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.  He nodded his head in what she took to be a “here we go again” kind of way.   Blinked his eyes lazily.    Pushed up the sleeves of his shirt.  “Yeah.  There sure is,” he said.  He shortened his stride just a hair or two again, she had noticed.  Almost calculatingly so.  Enough until the well worn toe of her mountain boot met his.



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