Angel at the Corner Store
I Don’t know where my faith stands, but I’ve been praying more.
Oh God, oh God, I don’t need a miracle, just company.
God of Rainbows let me survive.
See, my parents are visiting today for a whole weekend, I’m supposed to be cleaning or something but frankly I think I'll faint if I try. I see them in an hour. Maybe less. It’s been nearly a year and it’ll be like seeing strangers.
Their daughter left them last October, moved across the country with her best friend.
Well. I’m their child, not their daughter (I am this weekend), who moved across the country with their spouse.
My stomach was killing me but I braved the heat and the potholes to take my wheelchair (that they don’t know about) out on an outing. 2 stores and the library. Loaded my bag up with books like it's armor as I watched the time tick down. One hour and they’ll check in with me. (the hour’s since passed and I’m checking my texts obsessively)
My stomach twists, my palms are sweaty, I think I'm praying without even realizing it.
I turned on my old mp3 player (my brother’s old one, I destroyed most of mine from cranking up the volume as a teenager) where I’ve added whatever music was on my computer to it.
Stuff I’ve never even listened to before. As it turns out.
(Ah shit they’ll be here in like 30 minutes.)
I learn about said stuff after I hit a pothole. I can't find the song now but it's from an album my dad gave me pre-pandemic that he doesn't remember. The artists are gay married women. He definitely didn't know that.
She sings about the bitterness of the closet. I hold the creaking mp3 player like a hymnal and hum along like it's a dirge or a psalm.
Next stop, corner store. I look for a couple things. My spouse sent me to get a thumb drive but the back to school rush is over, Halloween stuff is here now, and a garland of glow in the dark skeletons is probably not a good substitute. Like using applesauce for an omelette.
Anyway, I just grab a pie instead and hope my mom doesn't get upset about the soybean oil in it. She'll eat miso but not Soy. I don't get it either.
God’s been giving me signs all day (Good night's sleep. Friendly librarians. No unseen hazards on the road) that I've been brushing past and I think they just got sick of it. I think they decided to just fucking hit me over the head with a good omen.
The angel in the corner store doesn't see me for a bit, frowning at the two salad options in their hand.
They look like my spouse.
They look like my spouse 30 years from now. Magenta mohawk, ring of keys on their belt, docs- for fucks sake this middle aged butch is wearing a pride shirt. They let me go in front of them in line.
My favorite cashier asks me how I'm doing. I tell her- family is visiting. I'm stressed.
The middle aged butch helps me with my groceries. As I turn, they nod at me. “You got this sweetheart."
I Don’t know where my faith stands, but I think I was sent what I needed. A miracle. Hope. A little bit of company. A rainbow declaring I will not be destroyed.
jacobvanloon
yousharknotpass
titsay
dailybridgerton
janainaart
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