Photo cred: "Summer Tea" by Valyeszter

Tea Cup Tornado

HIM
She came out of a flower. A tea cup of a flower, really.
At first, I rubbed my eyes because I’d smoked a cigarette—a Marlboro Red, serious nicotine for a serious smoker, which I was not. Not anymore. I’d quit six months ago, so the first inhale had stung. But the second…well, it was like going home and wrapping my lungs in the warmest cocoon. Like velvet or that furry blanket Ma used to hang over our couch to hide a ten-year-old chocolate milk stain.
But anyway, back to the cigarette. Yeah, I think it might’ve been laced with something. How else could I explain the girl? She looked so tiny climbing out of that blooming cup. I wanted to squish her to see if she was real.

HER
I’d never been so cold before. Every infant hair on my body screamed for sun. For heat. When I blinked, the world collided in an agonizing band of light. It took me a moment to gather my strength enough to stand. A reminder of why it wasn’t wise to do this a lot. But then my blood began to pump and my breaths fluttered through my body and I knew this had been the right choice. I was free.

HIM
She just stood there; teetering on the lip of a cupped blue flower like it was a completely natural thing to do. It wasn’t natural. Ma always told me if it didn’t look right, it probably wasn’t.
A breeze blew from the east and I thought: This is it. Maybe she’ll topple over and splat all over the gnarled tree roots. How awesome would that be? I sucked in a breath, tasted the stale ash on my tongue, and waited.
But she didn’t fall. She stretched her arms and blinked at me as if she could create tornadoes with her eyelashes. I sort of wanted to see her do it. Twisters always looked wicked cool in movies.

HER
I wanted to touch him. His face. His throat. The little bob that danced every time he swallowed. He swallowed a lot.
I tilted my head and licked my lips. Would his skin feel as warm as the air? If I reached out, would he crumble underneath my fingertips? Would it hurt?
I smiled. He smiled and leaned in like he wanted me to do it.
So I bent my knees, gripped my toes around the edge of the flower petal, and did it—I touched the tip of his nose with my finger.
In one blink, he was nothing but a cloud of ash.
And I was finally warm.

© 2010 Cambria Dillon

(Author’s Note: Apparently when I think teacup, I think: KILLER PIXIES!)

*Don’t forget to check out other stories from YAFF Muse participants:
RM Gilbert
Min Buchanan
Rebekah Purdy
Traci Kenworth
Vanessa Barger