#232 Feelings are complicated, but throwing things is awesome

by Anne Thériault

The rock had already left Josie’s hand before she fully realized what she was doing.

It skimmed past Adam’s cheek and through the stained-glass window behind him, leaving a jagged hole nestled in an uneven sunburst of hairline cracks.

She stared at him, horrified, as he lifted a hand to touch the tiny beads of blood that were beginning to appear on his face. That she was nearing thirty, and still hucking rocks at boys, was unbelievable. That she had a heart to break, and was still letting it be broken, was unbelievable. That the look of pain and confusion on Adam’s face still stirred some kind of sympathy in her was unbelievable.

He was staring at her uncomprehendingly, his mouth a perfect round O of surprise.

“I just threw a rock at you,” Josie said helpfully. “I just threw a rock at your face.”

She started laughing, and couldn’t stop.

Adam pulled his hand away from his cheek and examined his fingers.

“I’m bleeding,” he said slowly.

“I know,” said Josie, tears of mirth streaming down her face. “I know. It’s because I threw a rock.”

Nothing had ever been as funny as this moment.

“Hey, kids!”

They both turned at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching them.

“Hey you kids,” huffed the fat old priest as he rounded the corner of the building.

Josie turned on her heel and ran, still laughing.

In all her life, she had never felt so free.


Kurt Hendricks said...

I love this story. The title provides a wonderful answer to the question, "Why would she do that?!?"

Sarah Laurenson said...

I like this even though I'm confused about their ages. It's an interesting study of her breaking free.