cherry

Rock ‘n’ Roll riffs match frame with a closeup of a woman’s cherry red lips. The lipstick, freshly applied. Her teeth are perfect pearly white. It is a summer’s day, as can be seen in the blurred background of the activities of a community pool in slow motion. The woman is chewing gum, slowed grinding up and down movement of her jaw. She spits out the gum, has piano enters the score non-diagetically. Carefully wrapping her discarded lunch in its original tin foil wrapper and disposes of it in the waste bin, she grabs a stemmed maraschino cherry off an unassuming kid’s banana split sundae, and pops it in her mouth. Heads turn as if the action has loud, reverberant repercussions. And they aren’t staring because they think what she did was wrong or unjust, but they want to see her expert tongue craft a knot with the cherry stem, and dream of what else that tongue could do if put to the test. The victim of the fruit robbery however, does feel robbed however, and shouts at the girl as she walks away from him without a second glance. Her sunglasses have thick, white frames and she is still walking, walking, walking in slow motion, having chewed and swallowed the sweet, syrupy treat and now working that stem into a knot. The poolside community on the edge of their seat. The splashing has stopped. Divers have stopped short on the diving board. Lifeguards abandon their posts, looking, searching, to see if she’s done it. Suddenly she stops walking and puts her fingers to her mouth to pull out the double-knotted cherry stem. She raises it above her head, spins around 180 degrees and smiles big. The crowd cheers! Popcorn spills onto the pool walkway, sodas are knocking over, kids in the pool are dunking each other in excitement. Goggles have been fogged up.

Author: Roe

29. she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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